 | Sermons and songs of the Christian life |  |
115
A SONG IN THE MINOR KEY.
I stand on Time's mysterious brink,
And send an onward gaze
Where throngs of spirits rise or sink
At parting of the ways.
And send an onward gaze
Where throngs of spirits rise or sink
At parting of the ways.
Upward, towards the sun-lit rooms,
They climb the shining stairs;
Or, downward through the swirling glooms,
Sink to their long despairs.
They climb the shining stairs;
Or, downward through the swirling glooms,
Sink to their long despairs.
And happy thrills of song and lyre
Come from the angel-train,
And upward through the crater-fire
The muffled groans of pain.
Come from the angel-train,
And upward through the crater-fire
The muffled groans of pain.
And as I heard, my song uprose
To catch that heavenly air,
When straightway on my lips it froze
To agonizing prayer.
To catch that heavenly air,
When straightway on my lips it froze
To agonizing prayer.
O ye who climb the stairs above,
And crowd up nigh the throne,
How can ye sing redeeming Love
And see its work half done?
And crowd up nigh the throne,
How can ye sing redeeming Love
And see its work half done?
O thou great Mercy! folding all
Beneath thy brooding wing,—
Those who to thee for pity call
Or their redemption sing,—
Beneath thy brooding wing,—
Those who to thee for pity call
Or their redemption sing,—
116
I ask not through the highest room
Of heavenly state to go,
But downward through the thickest gloom
Of any child of woe.
Of heavenly state to go,
But downward through the thickest gloom
Of any child of woe.
Did not thy Christ go down to hell
And cut its brazen bars,
Before he sought his coronal—
His golden crown of stars?
And cut its brazen bars,
Before he sought his coronal—
His golden crown of stars?
Are they not all my kith and kin,
And children, Lord, of thine,
Alike who beg in rags of sin,—
In jeweled robes who shine?
And children, Lord, of thine,
Alike who beg in rags of sin,—
In jeweled robes who shine?
We all are beggars; poor and bare
We stand before thy face,
Save when in borrowed robes we flare,
Or shinings of thy grace.
We stand before thy face,
Save when in borrowed robes we flare,
Or shinings of thy grace.
Here I will raise no song of glee,
And hold no waving palm;
I breathe upon the minor key
My penitential psalm.
And hold no waving palm;
I breathe upon the minor key
My penitential psalm.
I share my brother's grief—I list
The undertones of pain,
And pray to see thy conquering Christ
Go up with all his train.
The undertones of pain,
And pray to see thy conquering Christ
Go up with all his train.
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