Chapter 88
Lord and Father, great and holy!
Fearing naught, we come to thee; Fearing naught, though weak and lowly, For thy love has made us free.
By the blue sky bending o'er us, By the green earth's flowery zone, Teach us, Lord, the angel chorus, "Thou art Love, and Love alone!"
Though the worlds in flame should perish, Suns and stars in ruin fall, Trust in thee our hearts should cherish, Thou to us be all in all.
And though heavens thy name are praising, Seraphs hymn no sweeter tone Than the strains our hearts are raising, "Thou art Love, and Love alone!"
--Frederic William Farrar.
That love for one from which there doth not spring Wide love for all is but a worthless thing.
--James Russell Lowell.
JOHN AND JESUS
A voice by Jordan's sh.o.r.e!
A summons stern and clear: Reform! be just! and sin no more!
G.o.d's judgment draweth near!
A voice by Galilee, A holier voice I hear; Love G.o.d! thy neighbor love! for, see, G.o.d's mercy draweth near!
O voice of Duty, still Speak forth; I hear with awe.
In thee I own the sovereign will, Obey the sovereign law.
Thou higher voice of Love!
Yet speak thy word in me; Through Duty let me upward move To thy pure liberty!
--Samuel Longfellow.
WHAT REDRESS?
I pray you, do not use this thing For vengeance; but if questioning What wound, when dealt your humankind, Goes deepest--surely he shall find Who wrongs you, loving _him_ no less-- There's nothing hurts like tenderness.
--James Whitcomb Riley.
FORGIVENESS
When on the fragrant sandal-tree The woodman's axe descends, And she who bloomed so beauteously Beneath the keen stroke bends, E'en on the edge that wrought her death Dying she breathed her sweetest breath, As if to token, in her fall, Peace to her foes, and love to all.
How hardly man this lesson learns, To smile, and bless the hand that spurns; To see the blow, to feel the pain, But render only love again!
This spirit not to earth is given-- ONE had it, but he came
Reviled, rejected, and betrayed, No curse he breathed, no plaint he made, But when in death's deep pang he sighed Prayed for his murderers, and died.
LOVE COUNTETH NOT THE COST
There is an ancient story, simply told, As ever were the holy things of old, Of one who served through many a toiling year To earn at last the joy he held most dear; A weary term, to others strangely lost.
What mattered it? Love counteth not the cost.
Yet not alone beneath far Eastern skies The faithful life hath, patient, won its prize; Whenever hearts beat high and brave hopes swell The soul, some Rachel waits beside the well; For her the load is borne, the desert crossed.
What matters it? Love counteth not the cost.
This then of man--and what, dear Lord, of thee, Bowed in the midnight of Gethsemane-- Come from those regions infinite with peace, To buy with such a price the world's release?
Thy voice descends, through ages tempest-tossed, "What matters it? Love counteth not the cost."
O Christ, Redeemer, Master! I who stand Beneath the pressure of thy gracious hand-- What is the service thou wouldst have from me?
What is the burden to be borne for thee?
I, too, would say, though care and fear exhaust, "What matters it? Love counteth not the cost."
LOVE OF HOME
Thy voice is heard through rolling drums That beat to battle where he stands; Thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands.
A moment, while the trumpets blow, He sees his brood about thy knee; The next, like fire he meets the foe, And strikes him dead for thine and thee.
--Alfred Tennyson.
BE KIND TO THYSELF
Comes a message from above-- "As thyself thy neighbor love."
With myself so vexed I grow-- Of my weakness weary so; Easier may I tolerate My neighbor than myself not hate.
Take not part of thee for whole; Thou art neighbor to thy soul; The ray from heaven that gilds the clod Love thou, for it comes from G.o.d.
Bear thou with thy human clay, Lest thou miss the heaven-sent ray.
--Edward Sandford Martin.
LOVE AND LIGHT
Through love to light! oh wonderful the way That leads from darkness to the perfect day!
From darkness and from sorrow of the night To morning that comes singing o'er the sea, Through love to light! Through light, O G.o.d, to thee, Who art the love of love, the eternal light of light.
--Richard Watson Gilder.
SYMPATHETIC LOVE
O Love divine, that stooped to share Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear!
On thee we cast each earthborn care; We smile at pain while thou art near.
Though long the weary way we tread, And sorrow crown each lingering year, No path we shun, no darkness dread, Our hearts still whispering, "Thou art near!"
When drooping pleasure turns to grief And trembling faith is changed to fear, The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf, Shall softly tell us, "Thou art near!"