The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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September 24
EST DEUS IN REBUS |
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 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
307
September 24 EST DEUS IN REBUS
“A door was opened in heaven.”—Rev. iv. 1.
The red rose blushes and the white rose weeps
And far above we think the great God sleeps,
But yet He holds and feels Himself each thorn
And tempers darkness with the kiss of morn;
Yea, in the passion of mid thunder,
We know His Voice is heard thereunder;
And, from the dimness of the awful deeps,
Intolerable Light at last is born,
Which cleaves the gates of hell asunder.
And far above we think the great God sleeps,
But yet He holds and feels Himself each thorn
And tempers darkness with the kiss of morn;
Yea, in the passion of mid thunder,
We know His Voice is heard thereunder;
And, from the dimness of the awful deeps,
Intolerable Light at last is born,
Which cleaves the gates of hell asunder.
The west winds murmur and the south winds sigh
And there is silence in the courts on high,
While the world's riddle ever waxes more
As waves of grief break on the upper shore;
For all around lie scenes of sadness
And all within the thought is madness,
Though awful Truth stands strong and very high;
Yea death itself has kindness at its core,
And in each pulse of pain throbs gladness.
And there is silence in the courts on high,
While the world's riddle ever waxes more
As waves of grief break on the upper shore;
For all around lie scenes of sadness
And all within the thought is madness,
Though awful Truth stands strong and very high;
Yea death itself has kindness at its core,
And in each pulse of pain throbs gladness.
The tear and laughter yet are closest kin
And holiness was never far from sin,
While love and hatred in the same true heart
Do grow together and dwell not apart;
Ah, the divine hath human leaven
And Judas joins with the Eleven;
We end not with the grave, but there begin
The brighter founts which still in Time upstart,
And earth is but the door of Heaven.
And holiness was never far from sin,
While love and hatred in the same true heart
Do grow together and dwell not apart;
Ah, the divine hath human leaven
And Judas joins with the Eleven;
We end not with the grave, but there begin
The brighter founts which still in Time upstart,
And earth is but the door of Heaven.
| The Prisoner of Love | |