 | Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) |  |
175
WHOM THE LORD LOVETH.
Not always of the favored ones and gay,
On whom the world smiles with indulgent eyes,—
Who have not learned the depths of tears and sighs,—
Not always those whom men love most, are they
Whom the Lord loveth!
On whom the world smiles with indulgent eyes,—
Who have not learned the depths of tears and sighs,—
Not always those whom men love most, are they
Whom the Lord loveth!
Bending beneath the weight of griefs and woes,
I see a pilgrim, pale with earnest thought,
Weighed down by sorrows which the world knows not,
Unnoticed and alone, yet one of those
Whom the Lord loveth.
I see a pilgrim, pale with earnest thought,
Weighed down by sorrows which the world knows not,
Unnoticed and alone, yet one of those
Whom the Lord loveth.
Wealth, glory, worldly pride, aside he threw,
For the deep faith within him,—far too strong
To brook divided powers;—untired, life-long,
Has been his labor for the Pure and True,—
Whom the Lord loveth.
For the deep faith within him,—far too strong
To brook divided powers;—untired, life-long,
Has been his labor for the Pure and True,—
Whom the Lord loveth.
176
His heart's best idols crumbled to decay,
And seeming friends grew frigid and unkind;
But still for every love which he resigned
Another angel hovered round his way,
Whom the Lord loveth.
And seeming friends grew frigid and unkind;
But still for every love which he resigned
Another angel hovered round his way,
Whom the Lord loveth.
The many look upon him scornfully,
And mockers laugh, and scoff his patient faith,
Yet not one harsh repaying word he saith;
For always meek and pitiful is he
Whom the Lord loveth.
And mockers laugh, and scoff his patient faith,
Yet not one harsh repaying word he saith;
For always meek and pitiful is he
Whom the Lord loveth.
His worn feet grope through thorns, in shadows dim,
Red spots, which are not roses, mark his way,
Yet oft, as hovering wings around him play,
A crown-like halo lights the brow of him
Whom the Lord loveth.
Red spots, which are not roses, mark his way,
Yet oft, as hovering wings around him play,
A crown-like halo lights the brow of him
Whom the Lord loveth.
O strong in faith and love! all needlessly
My lips essay to cheer thy martyrdom;
Thou hast a sure reward,—and till it come
Let me embrace thy feet, and learn of thee
Whom the Lord loveth.
My lips essay to cheer thy martyrdom;
Thou hast a sure reward,—and till it come
Let me embrace thy feet, and learn of thee
Whom the Lord loveth.
| Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) | |