The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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October 21
VICARIOUS |
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 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
335
October 21 VICARIOUS
“I will very gladly spend and be spent for you.”—
2 Cor. xii. 15.
More fuel, Lord,
More suffering still;
Heap on more faggots, and the cord
Of fire make fiercer at Thy Will;
For I am earthly now and all
Stained with the oft-repeated fall.
With trial's flame,
Consume the dross;
O search me through this sinful frame,
And nail me to Thy burning Cross;
Yea, heat the furnace seven times more,
That I may learn Thy secret lore.
More suffering still;
Heap on more faggots, and the cord
Of fire make fiercer at Thy Will;
For I am earthly now and all
Stained with the oft-repeated fall.
With trial's flame,
Consume the dross;
O search me through this sinful frame,
And nail me to Thy burning Cross;
Yea, heat the furnace seven times more,
That I may learn Thy secret lore.
My brother, Lord,
Lies stricken down!
Then set on me Thy judgment sword,
And lend to him my borrowed crown;
For only shall I count that gain
Which gives to me another's pain.
I cannot be
Unless in him,
Who is myself, and thus lets free
My heart from its poor dungeon dim;
And chiefly while I bear his load,
Through wrath and up the iron road.
Lies stricken down!
Then set on me Thy judgment sword,
And lend to him my borrowed crown;
For only shall I count that gain
Which gives to me another's pain.
I cannot be
Unless in him,
Who is myself, and thus lets free
My heart from its poor dungeon dim;
And chiefly while I bear his load,
Through wrath and up the iron road.
336
My sister, Lord,
And also Thine
But nearer to Thee, at the board
And banquet where the children dine,
Is sick and droops her darling head—
And I would suffer all instead.
I ask not joys,
Nor costly fee
Of fortune and its dying toys—
I want her burden laid on me;
That in my measure, and by loss,
I may be married to Thy Cross.
And also Thine
But nearer to Thee, at the board
And banquet where the children dine,
Is sick and droops her darling head—
And I would suffer all instead.
I ask not joys,
Nor costly fee
Of fortune and its dying toys—
I want her burden laid on me;
That in my measure, and by loss,
I may be married to Thy Cross.
| The Prisoner of Love | |