QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY.
FROM THE GOSPEL.
I
'Twas when our Lord was journeying tow'rd stately Jericho,
And multitudes around his path did gather still and grow
For wondrous were the words he spake—pure words of truth and grace,
And all the love of Earth and Heaven was beaming from his face;
And miracles of healing might his blessed hand had done,
Proclaiming Him, to faithful eyes, the Lord's anointed Son.
II
Now as he to the city gate, in earnest speech, drew nigh,
A blind man sat beside the road, and begg'd of passers by;
He heard the hum of multitudes—the myriad-footed tread—
And in his darkness, anxiously, “What meaneth this?” he said;—
“What mean these sounds of thronging crowds?”—and thus men made reply—
“Jesus, the blessed Nazarene—'tis He who passeth by.”
III
Then suddenly a gleam of light shot through the beggar's mind,
His inward eye was lighten'd, and his heart no longer blind;
Faith brought him back the world without, in blissful vision shown,
And said it might, by Heaven's rich grace, become once more his own.
So straight he raised his eager voice, and piteously cried he—
“Jesus! thou Son of David! have mercy upon me!”
IV
His cry disturb'd the listening groups, the foremost in the way—
“Now hold thy peace, bold beggar—trouble not our Lord,” said they.
But little heeded he their words, for in his mental eye
Familiar faces—youthful scenes, long lost, were passing by;
And still he raised his earnest voice, and piteously cried he—
“Jesus! thou Son of David! have mercy upon me!”
V
Our Lord stood still, and fix'd on him a mild, approving glance,
Till the blind man felt the sunshine of his beaming countenance;—
“Forbid him not, but rather guide his steps to me,” he said,—
And the beggar to his presence straight by pitying hands was led;
And as he knelt before Him, with raised hands and bended knee—
“Tell me,” he said, “what wilt thou that I should do for thee?”
VI
That voice of heavenly mercy through the blind man's bosom thrill'd
As sweetly as the dew of Heaven on Hermon's brow distill'd.
He felt the pressure of the grief that on his spirit lay,
But felt that soon, at His dear word, that grief would pass away;
Nor paused he for a moment's space, but cried, in deep delight,
“Lord! this I would—that, from thy hand, I might receive my sight!”
VII
“Receive thy sight,” our Lord replied,—“thy faith hath made thee whole”—
And the blind man rose, with sight restored to body and to soul;
And blithely in his Saviour's track, with eager steps, he trod,
And bless'd him for his healing grace, and glorified his God.—
And all the crowds, that throng'd around, with echoing hearts replied—
“Our God, and Jesus Christ, his Son, for this be glorified!”
