Be thou to me
Perpetual prophecy!
XCIV.
The battle is set,
The field to be won;
What foes have you met,
What work have you done?
To courage alone
Does victory come;
To coward and drone
Nor country nor home!
XCV.
For thee, of blessed name,
I ask not wealth or fame,
Nor that thy path may be
From toil and trouble free;
For toil is everywhere,
Some trouble all must bear,
And wealth and fame are naught,
With better stuff unwrought--
I crave for thy dear heart
Eternal Duty's part.
For then indeed I know
Thy pathway here below
Will bloom with roses fair,
And beauty everywhere;
And this will be enough
When winds are wild and rough,
To keep thy heart in peace.
XCVI
All things to-day have voices,
To tell the joy of heaven,
Which unto earth is given;
This Winter flower rejoices,
This snowy hellebore
Which blooms for evermore
On merry Christmas Day,
Reminding us of One
Here born a Virgin's Son,
To take our sins away.
The death its leaves within
Is but the death of sin;
Which death to die was born
The pure and guiltless Child
Who Justice reconciled
And oped the gates of morn,
What time a crimson flame
Throughout a word of shame
Did purge away the dross,
And leave the blood-red gold,
Whose worth can not be told,
He purchased on the cross!
And thus a prophecy
Of Him on Calvary,
Who takes our sins away,
Is this fair snow-white flower
Which has of death the power,
And blooms on Christmas Day.
Pages:
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555