The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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March 24
ROYALTY OF SUFFERING |
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 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
104
March 24 ROYALTY OF SUFFERING
“If we suffer, we shall also reign with him.”—2 Tim. ii. 12.
Lord, let me suffer, though this weak heart fails
When trial doth draw near,
And droopeth faith in fear;
Yea, from another's cross draw out the nails,
And crucify this coward flesh that quails;
If I may teach one stricken soul that Love
Rules over care and grief,
While pain is pain's relief,
And even the fall is but a fall above.
When trial doth draw near,
And droopeth faith in fear;
Yea, from another's cross draw out the nails,
And crucify this coward flesh that quails;
If I may teach one stricken soul that Love
Rules over care and grief,
While pain is pain's relief,
And even the fall is but a fall above.
Lord, let me suffer, that the sad may feel
Joy rooted in all things,
Whatever sorrow brings;
And they, that shyly in the shadow kneel,
Grind sin and death to dust with conquering heel.
Ah, let them learn no little sob is vain,
No tear was shed for naught
Or labour idly wrought,
And there is pleasure at the core of pain.
Joy rooted in all things,
Whatever sorrow brings;
And they, that shyly in the shadow kneel,
Grind sin and death to dust with conquering heel.
Ah, let them learn no little sob is vain,
No tear was shed for naught
Or labour idly wrought,
And there is pleasure at the core of pain.
Lord, let me suffer, if I thus may show
Within the dark Thy Light,
That cruel wrong comes right;
While all the streams of anguish from Thee flow,
And red earth with thine Altar is aglow.
Blot me for ever from Thy Book of Life,
And let my travailing breath
Be but a daily death—
If I may save one struggler in the Strife.
Within the dark Thy Light,
That cruel wrong comes right;
While all the streams of anguish from Thee flow,
And red earth with thine Altar is aglow.
Blot me for ever from Thy Book of Life,
105
Be but a daily death—
If I may save one struggler in the Strife.
Lord, let me suffer, though I simply add
A moment brief of bliss
To pain's Diviner kiss,
For unloved lips and lives that never had
A wooer when the hearts around were glad.
Strip me of joy, if any feet that stood
Strayed in the desert far
May see the Morning Star,
And know that all Thy work is very good.
A moment brief of bliss
To pain's Diviner kiss,
For unloved lips and lives that never had
A wooer when the hearts around were glad.
Strip me of joy, if any feet that stood
Strayed in the desert far
May see the Morning Star,
And know that all Thy work is very good.
| The Prisoner of Love | |