The Prisoner of Love :: :: University of Virginia Library

Father, I could not ever pray,
I could not stand where Jesus stood
And walk with Him the narrow way,
But for Thy Blessed Fatherhood.
'Tis this which makes me very bold
And life so lovely and so sweet,
That I may draw from Grace untold
And not lie only at Thy Feet.

Father, I may approach quite near
To find in Thee a perfect rest,
And Thou wilt wipe away each tear
When I am folded to Thy Breast.
'Tis this which gives me courage great
To do what else were darkly done,
And count as joy the hardest fate,
Because I am indeed Thy son.

Father, the earth would not look green
Nor were blue roses in the sky,
If this vast truth had never been,
Hadst Thou no Christian Family;
'Tis this which brings the rebel far
From Thee to pastures glad and good,
The very light of sun and star,
Thy grand and gracious Fatherhood.

Father, my Home is but in Thee,
Outside Thy Love I cannot go,
And by Thee only am I free
To serve Thee for this while below;
'Tis this which maketh life to live,
And setteth love upon its throne,
The sonship none but Thou canst give—
Always, through Jesus Christ alone.