The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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March 13
PASSION AND PALM |
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 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
88
March 13 PASSION AND PALM
“This is thankworthy, if a man for conscience toward God
endure grief, suffering wrongfully.”—1 St. Pet. ii. 19.
Truth is not, cannot be, that has not stood
First at the very Cross and garnered thence
Something of that great Universal Good,
And grasped as ours God's own Omnipotence;
Who has not wept with Mary, nor still weeps,
Renewing thus his daily strength and youth,
Shall never drink of those Eternal Deeps
Where dwelleth only Truth.
First at the very Cross and garnered thence
Something of that great Universal Good,
And grasped as ours God's own Omnipotence;
Who has not wept with Mary, nor still weeps,
Renewing thus his daily strength and youth,
Shall never drink of those Eternal Deeps
Where dwelleth only Truth.
O if we fain would feel the inmost heart
And hunger of the soul that moves towards God,
Then must we seek it in no pampered part,
But under the kind refuge of the rod;
If thou would'st gain the treasure beyond price,
It lurks not in the shallows of the flood
Nor at the shore, but in the sacrifice
Poured out of precious blood.
And hunger of the soul that moves towards God,
Then must we seek it in no pampered part,
But under the kind refuge of the rod;
If thou would'st gain the treasure beyond price,
It lurks not in the shallows of the flood
Nor at the shore, but in the sacrifice
Poured out of precious blood.
For faith must wrestle with the dark and doubt
And fight for blessing on the ocean ways,
Stricken by storms to draw divinely out
Knowledge, though while illuming us it slays;
But if we want the wings that heavenward fly
And love that is the world's redeeming breath,
We shall be taught alone at Calvary
To conquer is by death.
And fight for blessing on the ocean ways,
Stricken by storms to draw divinely out
Knowledge, though while illuming us it slays;
But if we want the wings that heavenward fly
And love that is the world's redeeming breath,
We shall be taught alone at Calvary
To conquer is by death.
89
Ah, we shall never make the world our own,
And God's footstool ere we have given it up—
Unless we gather where our Lord hath sown
And drink ourselves of His sweet-bitter cup;
Till we do tread His solitary road
By glorious steps of struggling and of pain,
And faint with Him beneath the awful load
Christlike to rise again.
And God's footstool ere we have given it up—
Unless we gather where our Lord hath sown
And drink ourselves of His sweet-bitter cup;
Till we do tread His solitary road
By glorious steps of struggling and of pain,
And faint with Him beneath the awful load
Christlike to rise again.
| The Prisoner of Love | |