Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 29

"O dearest Lord," I cried, "I will obey, Say what thou wilt! only lead thou the way; For, following thee, my footsteps shall not stray."

He took me at my word. He went before; He led me to the dwellings of the poor, Where wolf-eyed Want keeps watch beside the door.

He beckoned me, and I essayed to go Where Sin and Crime, more sad than Want and Woe, Hold carnival, and Vice walks to and fro.

And when I faltered at the sight, He said, "Behold, I died for such! These hands have bled, This side for such has pierced been," he said.

"Is the disciple greater than his Lord?

The servant than his Master?" Oh, that word!

It smote me like a sharp, two-edged sword!

And since that hour, if any work of mine Has been accepted by my Lord as sign That I was following in his steps divine;

If, serving others (though imperfectly), My own poor life has worthier come to be, And I have grown in faith and charity,

Dear Lord, be thine the glory! Thou hast wrought, All unaware, the blessing that I sought.

O that these lips might praise thee as they ought!

BE ALWAYS GIVING

The sun gives ever; so the earth-- What it can give so much 'tis worth; The ocean gives in many ways-- Gives baths, gives fishes, rivers, bays; So, too, the air, it gives us breath.

When it stops giving, comes in death.

Give, give, be always giving; Who gives not is not living; The more you give The more you live.

G.o.d's love hath in us wealth unheaped Only by giving it is reaped; The body withers, and the mind Is pent up by a selfish rind.

Give strength, give thought, give deeds, give pelf, Give love, give tears, and give thyself.

Give, give, be always giving, Who gives not is not living; The more we give The more we live.

Slightest actions often meet the sorest needs, For the world wants daily little kindly deeds; O, what care and sorrow you may help remove With your song and courage, sympathy and love.

NOT LOST

The look of sympathy; the gentle word Spoken so low that only angels heard; The secret act of pure self-sacrifice, Unseen by men, but marked by angels' eyes; These are not lost.

The silent tears that fall at dead of night Over soiled robes that once were pure and white; The prayers that rise like incense from the soul, Longing for Christ to make it clean and whole; These are not lost.

The happy dreams that gladdened all our youth, When dreams had less of self and more of truth; The childhood's faith, so tranquil and so sweet, Which sat like Mary at the Master's feet; These are not lost.

The kindly plans devised for others' good, So seldom guessed, so little understood; The quiet, steadfast love that strove to win Some wanderer from the ways of sin; These are not lost.

Not lost, O Lord! for in Thy city bright Our eyes shall see the past by clearer light, And things long hidden from our gaze below Thou wilt reveal, and we shall surely know They were not lost.

There's never a rose in all the world But makes some green spray sweeter; There's never a wind in all the sky But makes some bird wing fleeter; There's never a star but brings to heaven Some silver radiance tender; And never a rosy cloud but helps To crown the sunset splendor; No robin but may thrill some heart, His dawn like gladness voicing; G.o.d gives us all some small sweet way To set the world rejoicing.

A BROADER FIELD

O thou who sighest for a broader field Wherein to sow the seeds of truth and right-- Who fain a fuller, n.o.bler power would wield O'er human souls that languish for the light--

Search well the realm that even now is thine!

Canst not thou in some far-off corner find A heart sin-bound, like tree with sapping vine, Waiting for help its burdens to unbind?

Some human plant, perchance beneath thine eyes, Pierced through with hidden thorns of idle fears; Or drooping low for need of light from skies Obscured by doubt-clouds raining poison tears?

Some bruised soul the balm of love would heal; Some timid spirit faith would courage give; Or maimed brother, who, though brave and leal, Still needeth thee, to rightly walk and live?

O while one soul thou findest which hath not known The fullest help thy soul hath power to give, Sigh not for fields still broader than thine own, But, steadfast in thine own, more broadly live.

--Julia Anna Wolcott.

Be it health or be it leisure, Be it skill we have to give, Still in spending it for others Christians only really live.

Not in having or receiving, But in giving, there is bliss; He who has no other pleasure Ever may rejoice in this.

WHAT CHRIST SAID

I said, "Let me walk in the fields."

He said, "No, walk in the town."

I said, "There are no flowers there."

He said, "No flowers, but a crown."

I said, "But the skies are black; There is nothing but noise and din."

And He wept as he sent me back; "There is more," He said; "there is sin."

I said, "But the air is thick, And fogs are veiling the sun."

He answered, "Yet souls are sick, And souls in the dark undone."

I said, "I shall miss the light, And friends will miss me, they say."

He answered, "Choose to-night If _I_ am to miss you, or they."

I pleaded for time to be given.

He said, "Is it hard to decide?

It will not seem hard in heaven To have followed the steps of your Guide."

I cast one look at the fields, Then set my face to the town; He said, "My child, do you yield?

Will you leave the flowers for the crown?"

Then into His hand went mine, And into my heart came He; And I walk in a light divine The path I had feared to see.

--George Macdonald.