The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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August 18
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The Prisoner of Love | ||
270
August 18 SIN
“If ye do return unto the Lord with all your hearts, put away
the strange gods and A shtaroth.”—1 Sam. vii. 3.
Incarnate Sin, thou dazzling Death,
I now were lying in thine arms,
Had not the Holy Spirit's Breath
Unveilèd Love's eternal charms:
But he who once with opened eyes
Hath looked upon that Blessèd Face,
Can find no more a Paradise
In any mortal resting-place.
I now were lying in thine arms,
Had not the Holy Spirit's Breath
Unveilèd Love's eternal charms:
But he who once with opened eyes
Hath looked upon that Blessèd Face,
Can find no more a Paradise
In any mortal resting-place.
Thy beauty passeth with the flesh
And fashions of the world that fade,
But at the Cross I live afresh
And in Christ's image am remade;
His Glory fills the skies and earth,
It is the light of every hour,
Transfigures all the home and hearth
And is the impulse of each power.
And fashions of the world that fade,
But at the Cross I live afresh
And in Christ's image am remade;
His Glory fills the skies and earth,
It is the light of every hour,
Transfigures all the home and hearth
And is the impulse of each power.
I cannot see thy graces more,
But as within some optic glass
I mark corruption at the core
And bloom that withers like the grass:
Thou art to me a verdant grave
That shows, beneath the Spirit's Breath,
And on bright flowers that flush and wave
The skull and bones of dusty death.
But as within some optic glass
I mark corruption at the core
And bloom that withers like the grass:
Thou art to me a verdant grave
That shows, beneath the Spirit's Breath,
And on bright flowers that flush and wave
The skull and bones of dusty death.
The Prisoner of Love | ||