The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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January 1
THE LIGHT OF GOD'S GOODNESS |
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 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
2
January 1 THE LIGHT OF GOD'S GOODNESS
“Shew me thy glory. And he said, I will make all my
goodness pass before thee. ... Thou canst not see my face:
... there shall no man see me, and live.”—Exod. xxxiii.
18–20.
We cannot see Thee as Thou art,
We cannot hear Thee as we would;
But do believe that all is good,
And in the beating of Thy heart
Lies the last throb of Fatherhood—
If heaven and earth alike depart;
And though the ancient suns have set,
Their light is burning in us yet.
We cannot hear Thee as we would;
But do believe that all is good,
And in the beating of Thy heart
Lies the last throb of Fatherhood—
If heaven and earth alike depart;
And though the ancient suns have set,
Their light is burning in us yet.
We would not see the utter awe
Of Thy whole Splendour, if we might;
We are content, that reverent night
Should wrap us close in loving law.
We dare not ask the perfect sight,
That slays what is not without flaw;
And though great landmarks long have gone,
Horizons in us still lead on.
Of Thy whole Splendour, if we might;
We are content, that reverent night
Should wrap us close in loving law.
We dare not ask the perfect sight,
That slays what is not without flaw;
And though great landmarks long have gone,
Horizons in us still lead on.
We may not see the gracious round
That gathers in all moons and stars,
The final touch that draws the scars
Into the beauty of its bound;
But O the blessing of the bars,
That shut us in with roses wound!
We warm our hands at holy fires,
Of early faiths and old desires.
That gathers in all moons and stars,
The final touch that draws the scars
Into the beauty of its bound;
But O the blessing of the bars,
That shut us in with roses wound!
We warm our hands at holy fires,
Of early faiths and old desires.
| The Prisoner of Love | |