Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold :: :: University of Virginia Library

He laid me on my mother's breast—the likest to His Love,
And feathered all my little nest from His own Peace above.
He taught me at my mother's knee the holy things and good,
To make me beautiful and free He steadfast round me stood.
He took me from my mother's side, and through this desert land
Led by the gracious living tide with gentlest Father hand.
He held me in His tender arms, if rougher grew the road,
And shielded me from mortal harms or shared the heavy load.
He cleansed me from the shameful sin, He tempered every fear
To every weakness, just to win one loyal smile or tear.

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He carried all my cares and grief and with my sickness ailed,
He found His rest in my relief and at no sorrow failed.
By my affliction He was torn and felt the fatal dart,
The daily need or tiny thorn stabbed first His faithful Heart.
For He was mingled with my woes and measured by my chain,
My enemies were too His foes and His the bitter pain.
Whatever blast of want has blown or shadow fallen on life,
He made its every pulse His own and blunted the keen knife.
For me He bore the iron breath of stormy wind and wave,
He died for me the cruel death and slept within my grave.
But what have I repaid in turn for this most constant Love,
I who so long refused to learn one lesson from above?
He wept with me when sadness came who taught the nobler choice,
And as I rose from trial's flame with me He did rejoice.
But for His wise and watchful heed what service have I wrought,
In all my grovelling selfish greed, yet hourly saved and sought?
Ah, though He washes yet my feet and shelters me from ill,
I weave Him but a winding-sheet and crucify Him still.