Songs Old and New ... Collected Edition [by Elizabeth Charles] |
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| MARY THE MOTHER OF OUR LORD. |
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| IV. |
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 | Songs Old and New |  |
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MARY THE MOTHER OF OUR LORD.
I.
“All generations shall call me blessed.”
Age after age has called thee bless'd,
Yet none have fathomed all thy bliss;
Mothers, who read the secret best,
Or angels,—yet its depths must miss.
Yet none have fathomed all thy bliss;
Mothers, who read the secret best,
Or angels,—yet its depths must miss.
To dwell at home with Him for years,
And prove His filial love thine own;
In all a mother's tender cares
To serve thy Saviour in thy Son!
And prove His filial love thine own;
In all a mother's tender cares
To serve thy Saviour in thy Son!
To see before thee day by day
That perfect life expand and shine,
And learn by sight, as angels may,
All that is holy and Divine!
That perfect life expand and shine,
And learn by sight, as angels may,
All that is holy and Divine!
Well may we heap thy blessing up
From age to age, from land to land,
Since Christ Himself that brimming cup
Gives to the lowliest Christian's hand,
From age to age, from land to land,
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Gives to the lowliest Christian's hand,
The measure of a blessedness
Yet by that measure unexpress'd;
Sealing the mother's joy with “Yes,”
The Christian's, with His “rather bless'd.”
Yet by that measure unexpress'd;
Sealing the mother's joy with “Yes,”
The Christian's, with His “rather bless'd.”
II. —THE MARRIAGE AT CANA.
“Yea, rather, blessed are they who hear the word of God, and keep it.”
Not for thyself thy motherhood,
Not for thy home that life-stream springs;
For thee then, too, the higher good
Must come through death of lower things.
Not for thy home that life-stream springs;
For thee then, too, the higher good
Must come through death of lower things.
The village home so sweet to thee
With joys so hallowed and complete,
For Him no Father's House could be,
No limit for thy Saviour's feet.
With joys so hallowed and complete,
For Him no Father's House could be,
No limit for thy Saviour's feet.
The will long meekly bowed to thine
Now calmly claims its sovereign place,
And takes a range of love Divine
Thy mortal vision cannot trace.
Now calmly claims its sovereign place,
And takes a range of love Divine
Thy mortal vision cannot trace.
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On us that mild reproof falls cold,—
The words, and not the tone, we hear;
On thee, who knewest Him of old,
It casts no shade of doubt or fear.
The words, and not the tone, we hear;
On thee, who knewest Him of old,
It casts no shade of doubt or fear.
For thy meek heart has read Him true,
And, bowing, wins His “rather bless'd;”
“Whate'er He saith unto you, do,”
Embracing as its rule and rest.
And, bowing, wins His “rather bless'd;”
“Whate'er He saith unto you, do,”
Embracing as its rule and rest.
Then through earth's ruins heaven shines bright:
The widest sphere, the dearest home,
Save that where Christ is Lord and Light,
Were but at last the spirit's tomb.
The widest sphere, the dearest home,
Save that where Christ is Lord and Light,
Were but at last the spirit's tomb.
Thus, laying down thy special bliss,
Thou winnest joy, all joy above,—
The endless joy of being His,
And sharing in His works of love.
Thou winnest joy, all joy above,—
The endless joy of being His,
And sharing in His works of love.
III. —THE MARRIAGE AT CANA.
The Hand that strews the earth with flowers
Enriched the marriage feast with wine;
The Hand once pierced for sins of ours
This morning made the dew-drops shine;
Enriched the marriage feast with wine;
The Hand once pierced for sins of ours
This morning made the dew-drops shine;
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Makes rain-clouds palaces of art,
Makes ice-drops beauteous as they freeze;
The Heart that bled to save,—that Heart
Sends countless gifts each day to please;
Makes ice-drops beauteous as they freeze;
The Heart that bled to save,—that Heart
Sends countless gifts each day to please;
Spares no minute refining touch
To paint the flower, to crown the feast;—
Deeming no sacrifice too much,
Has care and leisure for the least;
To paint the flower, to crown the feast;—
Deeming no sacrifice too much,
Has care and leisure for the least;
Gives freely of its very best,
Not barely what the need may be,
But for the joy of making blest.—
Teach us to love and give like Thee!
Not barely what the need may be,
But for the joy of making blest.—
Teach us to love and give like Thee!
Not narrowly men's claims to measure,
But question daily all our powers:
To whose cup can we add a pleasure?
Whose path can we make bright with flowers?
But question daily all our powers:
To whose cup can we add a pleasure?
Whose path can we make bright with flowers?
IV. —THE CROSS.
“Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother.”
The strongest light casts deepest shade,
The dearest love makes dreariest loss;
And she His birth so blest had made
Stood by Him dying on the cross.
The dearest love makes dreariest loss;
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Stood by Him dying on the cross.
Yet, since not grief but joy shall last,
The day and not the night abide,
And all time's shadows, earthward cast,
Are lights upon the “other side;”
The day and not the night abide,
And all time's shadows, earthward cast,
Are lights upon the “other side;”
Through what long bliss that shall not fail,
That darkest hour shall brighten on!
Better than any angel's “Hail!”
The memory of “Behold thy Son!”
That darkest hour shall brighten on!
Better than any angel's “Hail!”
The memory of “Behold thy Son!”
Blest in thy lowly heart to store
The homage paid at Bethlehem,
But far more blessëd evermore
Thus to have shared the taunts and shame;
The homage paid at Bethlehem,
But far more blessëd evermore
Thus to have shared the taunts and shame;
Thus with thy pierced heart to have stood
'Mid mocking crowds, and owned Him thine;
True through a world's ingratitude,
And owned in death by lips Divine.
'Mid mocking crowds, and owned Him thine;
True through a world's ingratitude,
And owned in death by lips Divine.
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V. —THE CROWN.
Thou shalt be crowned, O mother blest!
Our hearts behold thee crowned e'en now;
The crown of motherhood, earth's best,
O'ershadowing thy maiden brow.
Our hearts behold thee crowned e'en now;
The crown of motherhood, earth's best,
O'ershadowing thy maiden brow.
Thou shalt be crowned! More fragrant bays
Than ever poet's brows entwine,
For thine immortal hymn of praise,
First Singer of the Church, are thine.
Than ever poet's brows entwine,
For thine immortal hymn of praise,
First Singer of the Church, are thine.
Thou shalt be crowned! All earth and heaven
Thy coronation pomp shall see;
The Hand by which thy crown is given
Shall be no stranger's hand to thee.
Thy coronation pomp shall see;
The Hand by which thy crown is given
Shall be no stranger's hand to thee.
Thou shalt be crowned! But not a queen;
A better triumph ends thy strife:
Heaven's bridal raiment, white and clean,
The victor's crown of fadeless life.
A better triumph ends thy strife:
Heaven's bridal raiment, white and clean,
The victor's crown of fadeless life.
Thou shalt be crowned! But not alone,
No lonely pomp shall weigh thee down;
Crowned with the myriads round His throne,
And casting at His feet thy crown.
No lonely pomp shall weigh thee down;
Crowned with the myriads round His throne,
And casting at His feet thy crown.
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