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62
A SONG OF JOY AND PAIN.
“I, the Lord, have brought down the high tree, have exalted
the low tree, have dried up the green tree, and have made the
dry tree to flourish.”
—Ezekiel xvii. 24.
Thou sign of all our loss,
Thou sign of all our gain,
O strange, sweet, solemn cross,
I hail thee! and again
I hail thee! here through pain
Joy breaks, Love conquereth,
And here through bitter death
The Lord of life doth reign.
Thou sign of all our gain,
O strange, sweet, solemn cross,
I hail thee! and again
I hail thee! here through pain
Joy breaks, Love conquereth,
And here through bitter death
The Lord of life doth reign.
Speak not unto me, Life!
Thy voice that loves and grieves
I hear; the gentle strife
Of birds among the leaves,
Fond tones that in their flow
Make sudden pause and grow
To sweeter silence; sound of summer rain,
And children's voices down the homeward lane
That pass; prayer's constant low
Sweet pleading voice I hear;
The blow, the scoff, the jeer,
The curse, the maddening whip, the clanking chain,
The bitter laugh far sadder than the tear,
All these alike are thine! I know
Not what thy language means, confused and vain;
Now let death talk with me, its speech is plain.
Thy voice that loves and grieves
I hear; the gentle strife
Of birds among the leaves,
Fond tones that in their flow
Make sudden pause and grow
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And children's voices down the homeward lane
That pass; prayer's constant low
Sweet pleading voice I hear;
The blow, the scoff, the jeer,
The curse, the maddening whip, the clanking chain,
The bitter laugh far sadder than the tear,
All these alike are thine! I know
Not what thy language means, confused and vain;
Now let death talk with me, its speech is plain.
Now let death speak with me, Thy death, my God,
Thy words upon the cross were plain and few;
It is my brother's blood that from the sod
Cries out of better things than Abel's knew.
Through dark decay it pleads, through sullen care;
It wins a triumph over earth's despair;
It turns to truth Life's failing prophecy,
It tells us that the Lord of Heaven was brave
And strong, and resolute in love to save
The world that He had made, yet could but die!
Thy words upon the cross were plain and few;
It is my brother's blood that from the sod
Cries out of better things than Abel's knew.
Through dark decay it pleads, through sullen care;
It wins a triumph over earth's despair;
It turns to truth Life's failing prophecy,
It tells us that the Lord of Heaven was brave
And strong, and resolute in love to save
The world that He had made, yet could but die!
Then let me also go
And die with Him! why strive I for this crown
Of fading leaves desired of all below,
Love, pleasure, sweet content and fair renown;
Why weep for flowers that fell too soon to spread
And drink the glory of the summer noon,
Sweet buds of promise quickly witherèd,
That died, unkiss'd of June?
Behold, my God doth choose
The thorn, the rose refuse;
Lord is He of delight
And gladness infinite,
Yet hath he pluck'd no flower from all that bloom,
But in our earth's fair garden made His tomb.
And die with Him! why strive I for this crown
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Love, pleasure, sweet content and fair renown;
Why weep for flowers that fell too soon to spread
And drink the glory of the summer noon,
Sweet buds of promise quickly witherèd,
That died, unkiss'd of June?
Behold, my God doth choose
The thorn, the rose refuse;
Lord is He of delight
And gladness infinite,
Yet hath he pluck'd no flower from all that bloom,
But in our earth's fair garden made His tomb.
Hail, blessed Cross! how bold
Thou makest me! how strong! no more I weep
O'er giant cities now the dragon's fold,
O'er mighty empires breathed to dust away;
No more a tearful chronicle I keep
Of all that passes ere our mortal day
Hath pass'd; nor grieve that in earth's fruitful deep
Warm soil, my life hath struck but slender hold;
All things must change, and into ruin, cold,
And darkness pass and perish, yet behold!
All fades not with the fading leaf! To me
The Lord hath shewed a tree!
Thou makest me! how strong! no more I weep
O'er giant cities now the dragon's fold,
O'er mighty empires breathed to dust away;
No more a tearful chronicle I keep
Of all that passes ere our mortal day
Hath pass'd; nor grieve that in earth's fruitful deep
Warm soil, my life hath struck but slender hold;
All things must change, and into ruin, cold,
And darkness pass and perish, yet behold!
All fades not with the fading leaf! To me
The Lord hath shewed a tree!
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And many a leaf on me
Hath fall'n from off this tree
Of healing power! I know
Not yet how near the skies
Its lofty stem will rise;
Nor guess how deep below
To what drear vaults of woe
Its roots will pierce; I see
Its boughs spread wide and free,
And fowls of every wing
Beneath them build and cling.
Hail, blessed Cross! I see
My life grow green in thee!
My life that hidden, mute
Lives ever in thy root,
When life fails utterly;
All hail, thou blessed Tree!
Hath fall'n from off this tree
Of healing power! I know
Not yet how near the skies
Its lofty stem will rise;
Nor guess how deep below
To what drear vaults of woe
Its roots will pierce; I see
Its boughs spread wide and free,
And fowls of every wing
Beneath them build and cling.
Hail, blessed Cross! I see
My life grow green in thee!
My life that hidden, mute
Lives ever in thy root,
When life fails utterly;
All hail, thou blessed Tree!
Quod stultum est Dei, sapientius est hominibus:
Et quod infirmum est Dei, fortius est hominibus.
Et quod infirmum est Dei, fortius est hominibus.
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