No more a burden which I groaned to leave, But something precious which I feared to lose. -How shall I show it, but by parables?
The sculptor, with his Psyche's wings half-hewn May close his eyes in weariness, and wake To meet the white cold clay of his ideal Flushed into beating life, and singing down The ways of Paradise. The husbandman May leave the golden fruitage of his groves Ungarnered, and upon the Tree of Life Will find a richer harvest waiting him. The soldier dying thinks upon his bride, And knows his arms shall never clasp her more, Until he first the face of his unborn child
Behold in heaven: for each and all of life, In every phase of action, love, and joy, There is fulfilment only otherwhere.-
But if, impatient, thou let slip thy cross, Thou will not find it in this world again, Nor in another; here, and here alone Is given thee to suffer for God's sake.
In other worlds we shall more perfectly
Serve Him and love Him, praise Him, work for Him
Grow near and nearer Him with all delight;
But then we shall not any more be called
To suffer, which is our appointment here. Canst thou not suffer then one hour,—or two? If He should call thee from thy cross to-day, Saying, It is finished !—that hard cross of thine From which thou prayest for deliverance, Thinkest thou not some passion of regret Would overcome thee? Thou wouldst say, “Sc
Let me go back, and suffer yet awhile
More patiently;-I have not yet praised God." And He might answer to thee,-—“ Never more. All pain is done with." Whensoe'er it comes, That summons that we look for, it will seem Soon, yea too soon. Let us take heed in time That God may now be glorified in us;
And while we suffer, let us set our souls
To suffer perfectly: since this alone,
The suffering, which is this world's special grace May here be perfected and left behind.
-But in obedience and humility;- Waiting on God's hand, not forestalling it. Seek not to snatch presumptuously the palm By self-election; poison not thy wine With bitter herbs if He has made it sweet; Nor rob God's treasuries because the key Is easy to be turned by mortal hands.
The gifts of birth, death, genius, suffering, Are all for His hand only to bestow. Receive thy portion, and be satisfied.
Who crowns himself a king is not the more Royal; nor he who mars himself with stripes The more partaker of the Cross of Christ.
But if Himself He come to thee, and stand Beside thee, gazing down on thee with eyes That smile, and suffer; that will smite thy hear With their own pity, to a passionate peace; And reach to thee Himself the Holy Cup, (With all its wreathen stems of passion-flowers And quivering sparkles of the ruby stars), Pallid and royal, saying "Drink with Me;" Wilt thou refuse? Nay, not for Paradise! The pale brow will compel thee, the pure hands Will minister unto thee; thou shalt take Of that communion through the solemn depths Of the dark waters of thine agony,
With heart that praises Him, that yearns to Him The closer through that hour. Hold fast His hand Though the nails pierce thine too! take only care Lest one drop of the sacramental wine
Be spilled, of that which ever shall unite Thee, soul and body to thy living Lord!
Therefore gird up thyself, and come, to stand Unflinching under the unfaltering hand, That waits to prove thee to the uttermost.
It were not hard to suffer by His hand,
If thou couldst see His face ;—but in the dark! That is the one last trial :-be it so.
Christ was forsaken, so must thou be too: How couldst thou suffer but in seeming, else?
Thou wilt not see the face nor feel the hand.
Only the cruel crushing of the feet,
When through the bitter night the Lord comes down To tread the winepress.-Not by sight, but faith. Endure, endure,--be faithful to the end!
ORD, support me all
'day long of this troublous life, until the shadows lengthen and the evening coines, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and my work is done. Then In Thy Mercy grant me a safe lodging, and a holy
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