| |
| IT was a time of sadness, and my heart, | |
| Although it knew and loved the better part, | |
| Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife, | |
| And all the needful discipline of life. | |
| |
| And while I thought on these, as given to me, | 5 |
| My trial-tests of faith and love to be, | |
| It seemed as if I never could be sure | |
| That faithful to the end I should endure. | |
| |
| And thus, no longer trusting to his might | |
| Who says, “We walk by faith and not by sight,” | 10 |
| Doubting, and almost yielding to despair, | |
| The thought arose, “My cross I cannot bear. | |
| |
| “Far heavier its weight must surely be | |
| Than those of others which I daily see; | |
| Oh! if I might another burden choose, | 15 |
| Methinks I should not fear my crown to lose.” | |
| |
| A solemn silence reigned on all around, | |
| E’en Nature’s voices uttered not a sound; | |
| The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell, | |
| And sleep upon my weary spirit fell. | 20 |
| |
| A moment’s pause,—and then a heavenly light | |
| Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured sight; | |
| Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere, | |
| And angels’ music thrilled the balmy air. | |
| |
| Then One, more fair than all the rest to see, | 25 |
| One to whom all the others bowed the knee, | |
| Came gently to me, as I trembling lay, | |
| And, “Follow me,” he said; “I am the Way.” | |
| |
| Then, speaking thus, he led me far above, | |
| And there, beneath a canopy of love, | 30 |
| Crosses of divers shape and size were seen, | |
| Larger and smaller than my own had been. | |
| |
| And one there was, most beauteous to behold,— | |
| A little one, with jewels set in gold. | |
| “Ah! this,” methought, “I can with comfort wear, | 35 |
| For it will be an easy one to bear.” | |
| |
| And so the little cross I quickly took, | |
| But all at once my frame beneath it shook; | |
| The sparkling jewels, fair were they to see, | |
| But far too heavy was their weight for me. | 40 |
| |
| “This may not be,” I cried, and looked again, | |
| To see if there was any here could ease my pain; | |
| But, one by one, I passed them slowly by, | |
| Till on a lovely one I cast my eye. | |
| |
| Fair flowers around its sculptured form entwined, | 45 |
| And grace and beauty seemed in it combined. | |
| Wondering, I gazed,—and still I wondered more, | |
| To think so many should have passed it o’er. | |
| |
| But oh! that form so beautiful to see | |
| Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me; | 50 |
| Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colors fair; | |
| Sorrowing, I said, “This cross I may not bear.” | |
| |
| And so it was with each and all around,— | |
| Not one to suit my need could there be found; | |
| Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down, | 55 |
| As my Guide gently said, “No cross,—no crown.” | |
| |
| At length to him I raised my saddened heart; | |
| He knew its sorrows, bade its doubts depart; | |
| “Be not afraid,” he said, “but trust in me; | |
| My perfect love shall now be shown to thee.” | 60 |
| |
| And then, with lightened eyes and willing feet, | |
| Again I turned my earthly cross to meet; | |
| With forward footsteps, turning not aside, | |
| For fear some hidden evil might betide; | |
| |
| And there—in the prepared, appointed way, | 65 |
| Listening to hear, and ready to obey— | |
| A cross I quickly found of plainest form, | |
| With only words of love inscribed thereon. | |
| |
| With thankfulness I raised it from the rest, | |
| And joyfully acknowledged it the best,— | 70 |
| The only one, of all the many there, | |
| That I could feel was good for me to bear. | |
| |
| And, while I thus my chosen one confessed, | |
| I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest; | |
| And as I bent, my burden to sustain, | 75 |
| I recognized my own old cross again. | |
| |
| But oh! how different did it seem to be, | |
| Now I had learned its preciousness to see! | |
| No longer could I unbelieving say | |
| “Perhaps another is a better way.” | 80 |
| |
| Ah, no! henceforth my one desire shall be, | |
| That he who knows me best should choose for me; | |
| And so, whate’er his love sees good to send, | |
| I ’ll trust it ’s best,—because he knows the end. | |
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