Christ in the poetry of today Author:Martha Foote Crow Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: I cannot look upon Him, So strangely burn His eyes? Hath not some grieving drawn Him From Paradise? For Thee, for Thee I'd live, Lord! Yet oft I almost fall ... more »Before Him?Oh, forgive, Lord, My sinful thrall! But e'en when He was nursing, A baby at my breast, It seemed He was dispersing The world's unrest. Thou badst me call Him "Jesus," And from our heavy sin I know He shall release us, From Sheol win. But, Lord, forgive! the yearning That He may sometimes be Like other children, learning Beside my knee, Or playing, prattling, seeking For help?comes to my heart . . . Oh sinful, Lord, I'm speaking? How good Thou art! textit{Mary at Nazareth Cale Young Rick textit{And the government shall be upon hit shoulder. When, for the last time from His mother's home The Son went forth, foreseeing perfectly What doom would happen, and what things would come, Was there upon His lips no stifled sigh For happy hours that should return no more, Long days among the lilies, pure delights Of wanderings by Galilee's fair shore, And converse with His friends on starry nights? Yet brave He stepped into the setting sun With this one word, "Father, Thy will be done!" With a low voice the stooping olive trees Whispered to Him of His Gethsemane; The cruel thorn-bush, clinging to His knees, Proclaimed, "I shall be made a crown for Thee!" And, looking back, His eyes made dim with loss, He saw the lintel of the cottage grow In shape against the sunset, like a cross, And knew He had not very far to go. Yet brave He stepped into the setting sun, Still saying this one word, "Thy will be done!" So, when the last time, from His mother's home The Son passed out, no choir of angels came, As long before at Bethlehem they had come, To comfort Him upon...« less