The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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December 8
WINTER |
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The Prisoner of Love | ||
389
December 8 WINTER
“When thou hearest the sound of a going in the tops of the mulberry
trees . . . thou shalt bestir thyself: for then shall
the Lord go out before thee.”—2 Sam. v. 24.
The elms are bowing in the wind,
But they are bowing, Lord, to Thee;
We think them stupid stocks and blind,
And yet they also serve and see;
Yea, in the blasts of wintry weather,
They know Thy Name and kneel together.
But they are bowing, Lord, to Thee;
We think them stupid stocks and blind,
And yet they also serve and see;
Yea, in the blasts of wintry weather,
They know Thy Name and kneel together.
O as we watch them wildly sway
Their branches reach out giant hands,
As if they only ask to pray
And worship doing Thy commands;
Stript of their foliage greens and glosses,
Their stems stand up like Calvary crosses.
Their branches reach out giant hands,
As if they only ask to pray
And worship doing Thy commands;
Stript of their foliage greens and glosses,
Their stems stand up like Calvary crosses.
Father, they teach me that Thine earth
With all upon it holds and hangs,
Alike the altar and the hearth,
By one dread Tree and Jesu's pangs;
Life had not learnt memento mori,
But for that Shadow and its glory.
With all upon it holds and hangs,
Alike the altar and the hearth,
By one dread Tree and Jesu's pangs;
Life had not learnt memento mori,
But for that Shadow and its glory.
Ages before the birth of man
The precious Lamb of God was slain,
In His decree, and Time began
But with the foretaste of Christ's pain;
And, in the acts of dumb creation,
We find rehearsed our one Salvation.
The precious Lamb of God was slain,
In His decree, and Time began
But with the foretaste of Christ's pain;
And, in the acts of dumb creation,
We find rehearsed our one Salvation.
The Prisoner of Love | ||