 | Songs for Sufferers |  |
8
RESURRECTION GROUND.
God reigneth yet on earth, and Christ hath risen
And rises every day in my sick-room.
He sweeps it bright and clean with loving broom;
The dust no longer soils my sanctuary prison,
He purgeth it of darkness and of doom.
The grave-clothes, fear's wild fancy on me wound,
Are radiance of the resurrection ground.
And rises every day in my sick-room.
He sweeps it bright and clean with loving broom;
The dust no longer soils my sanctuary prison,
He purgeth it of darkness and of doom.
The grave-clothes, fear's wild fancy on me wound,
Are radiance of the resurrection ground.
Faith is the other side of blank misgiving,
Hope casts out terror with its cosmic sweep
That probes the mysteries of the height and deep;
I catch the horizon of a larger living.
Beyond the boundaries of Time's little sleep.
Each perished thought of good I deemed had gone
Emergeth now once more, and lights me on.
Hope casts out terror with its cosmic sweep
That probes the mysteries of the height and deep;
I catch the horizon of a larger living.
Beyond the boundaries of Time's little sleep.
Each perished thought of good I deemed had gone
Emergeth now once more, and lights me on.
There is no death, no sickness, nothing passes
Except corruption and mere earth-born ill,
The sun and moon as evermore stand still;
Yea, at Love's footsteps all our creeds and classes
Meet in the marriage of the Holy Will.
The tomb is not a tomb but refuge found,
There is no place not resurrection ground.
Except corruption and mere earth-born ill,
The sun and moon as evermore stand still;
Yea, at Love's footsteps all our creeds and classes
Meet in the marriage of the Holy Will.
The tomb is not a tomb but refuge found,
There is no place not resurrection ground.
| Songs for Sufferers | |