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Home  »  An American Anthology, 1787–1900  »  500 The Master’s Invitation

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By Anson Davies FitzRandolph

500 The Master’s Invitation

DEAR Lord, thy table is outspread;

What other could such feast afford?

And thou art waiting at the head,

But I am all unworthy, Lord;

Yet do I hear thee say,—

(Was ever love so free?)

Come hither, son, to-day

And sit and sup with me.

O master! I am full of doubt,

My heart with sin and fear defiled;

Come thou, and cast the tempter out,

And make me as a little child;

Methinks I hear thee say,—

Come thou, at once, and see

What love can take away,

And what confer on thee.

My Lord! to thee I fain would go,

Yet tarry now I know not why;

Speak, if to tell what well I know,

That none are half so vile as I.

What do I hear thee say?—

Look, trembling one, and see

These tokens, which to-day

Tell what I did for thee.

Nay, Lord! I could not here forget

What thou didst for my ransom give;

The garden prayer, the bloody sweat,

All this and more, that I might live.

I hear thee sadly say,—

If this remembered be,

Why linger thus to-day?

Why doubt and question me?

Oh, love to angels all unknown!

I turn from sin and self aside;

Thou hast the idol self o’erthrown,

I only see the Crucified;

I only hear thee say,—

A feast is spread for thee

On this and every day,

If thou but follow me!