 | Songs for Sufferers |  |
21
HOLINESS TO THE LORD.
There's not one little inch of ground whereon
I have not prayed—to God unconsecrated,
Nor where the soul hath fought no Marathon;
For I have striven with beasts of Babylon,
All to the Cross and Christ is dedicated.
Where have I not for gladness humbly wept,
And bowed at vigils I alone have kept?
I have not prayed—to God unconsecrated,
Nor where the soul hath fought no Marathon;
For I have striven with beasts of Babylon,
All to the Cross and Christ is dedicated.
Where have I not for gladness humbly wept,
And bowed at vigils I alone have kept?
The very vessels of my chamber, such
As are for sordid use to Him were holy,
And did reflect a higher tone and touch;
They were accepted because I loved so much,
And to the stars is lifted faith if lowly.
The One who gave us songs in night and rest
Hath blest them, and they are for ever blest.
As are for sordid use to Him were holy,
And did reflect a higher tone and touch;
They were accepted because I loved so much,
And to the stars is lifted faith if lowly.
The One who gave us songs in night and rest
Hath blest them, and they are for ever blest.
The pots and bells, as in the prophet's day,
When offered up to Him assumed fresh glory,
They marked the Crucified's redeeming way;
And of themselves they also seemed to pray,
Telling in their poor fashion the great Story.
The air I drank, the circuit that I trod,
Seemed fragrant with the breath divine of God.
When offered up to Him assumed fresh glory,
They marked the Crucified's redeeming way;
And of themselves they also seemed to pray,
Telling in their poor fashion the great Story.
The air I drank, the circuit that I trod,
Seemed fragrant with the breath divine of God.
| Songs for Sufferers | |