Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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| I. |
| II. |
| VI. |
THE POTTER AND THE CLAY. |
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| VIII. |
 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
343
THE POTTER AND THE CLAY.
O Heavenly Potter,
Unto Thee I come,
But not with empty murmurs as do some
Because the furnace has been heated hotter,
And at the cruel pains
The flesh complains.
Not so do I address Thee, but I bless Thee
For all the suffering to which man is kin
And each dark sorrow of the day and morrow,
For every ache which heart hath known
Except for that which is my own—
The sin.
Unto Thee I come,
But not with empty murmurs as do some
Because the furnace has been heated hotter,
And at the cruel pains
The flesh complains.
Not so do I address Thee, but I bless Thee
For all the suffering to which man is kin
And each dark sorrow of the day and morrow,
For every ache which heart hath known
Except for that which is my own—
The sin.
I am Thy vessel
If no chosen one,
For mighty actions to be dared and done,
And in my bosom human passions wrestle
As ever must in all—
Even blessed Paul.
And thus I sorely need Thee and would heed Thee
Amid this babblement of strife and wrong,
What e'er the vial dashed on me by trial,
To keep me up should tempting shake
My boldest purpose, and to make
Me strong.
If no chosen one,
For mighty actions to be dared and done,
And in my bosom human passions wrestle
As ever must in all—
Even blessed Paul.
And thus I sorely need Thee and would heed Thee
Amid this babblement of strife and wrong,
What e'er the vial dashed on me by trial,
To keep me up should tempting shake
My boldest purpose, and to make
Me strong.
Thou art the Potter,
And I feel Thy hand
Rests on me though I be unmeet to stand,
And holds me upright when my footsteps totter;
For I am only clay,
And often stray.
But then I want the folding and the moulding,
About my mortal weakness which is much;
And there, from fretting and my dull forgetting,
Falls like a beam of solemn light
In joy of mercy and its might
Thy touch.
And I feel Thy hand
Rests on me though I be unmeet to stand,
And holds me upright when my footsteps totter;
For I am only clay,
And often stray.
But then I want the folding and the moulding,
About my mortal weakness which is much;
And there, from fretting and my dull forgetting,
Falls like a beam of solemn light
In joy of mercy and its might
Thy touch.
344
I am a brittle
And a worthless cup,
For all I bring I grudge to offer up
And at the best my utmost is but little;
The services are mean,
My lips unclean;
The hand that decks the altar still may palter
With things of evil and my breast is stone;
And if unwilling yet I seek fulfilling
Of many a sordid lie and lust,
Which would pollute with shame and dust
Thy throne.
And a worthless cup,
For all I bring I grudge to offer up
And at the best my utmost is but little;
The services are mean,
My lips unclean;
The hand that decks the altar still may palter
With things of evil and my breast is stone;
And if unwilling yet I seek fulfilling
Of many a sordid lie and lust,
Which would pollute with shame and dust
Thy throne.
Thou art the Potter,
And I come to Thee
For that sweet cleansing which can make me free,
And curb the will which is a rebel plotter
Against Thy holy law
And loving awe.
O I do crave Thy kindness on this blindness
To pour the sunshine of perpetual day,
And with more favour to enrich the savour
Of sacrifices vile and slow
Without Thy blessing, and to show
The way.
And I come to Thee
For that sweet cleansing which can make me free,
And curb the will which is a rebel plotter
Against Thy holy law
And loving awe.
O I do crave Thy kindness on this blindness
To pour the sunshine of perpetual day,
And with more favour to enrich the savour
Of sacrifices vile and slow
Without Thy blessing, and to show
The way.
I am an idle
And unfaithful tool,
Yet plunge me in the furnace of Thy school
And pierce me with the cross which is Thy bridle;
I need the fiercest flame,
To know Thy name.
And if Thou choosest take me all and break me,
If I may be in heart renewed and shine:
I would be shivered through to be delivered
From bondage foul, and scourged and scarred
To be at length (however marred)
But Thine.
And unfaithful tool,
Yet plunge me in the furnace of Thy school
And pierce me with the cross which is Thy bridle;
I need the fiercest flame,
To know Thy name.
And if Thou choosest take me all and break me,
If I may be in heart renewed and shine:
I would be shivered through to be delivered
From bondage foul, and scourged and scarred
To be at length (however marred)
But Thine.
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