Poet divine!
My heart is full of love,
My thoughts well in my throat and melt in tears
When seeking to express the power thy words convey.
Thou hast a soul that wraps round mine sweet peace,
That tells me all I need and gives it me;
Thy sweet, cool hand is oft upon my brow,
Thy holy purity inspireth me.
When sadness o’erwhelmeth me, thou art sad,
And sadness mingled giveth sympathy.
When joy shines bright, thy joy shines also,
And rejoices with me—Whence comes this power?
Methinks thou hast been on the mountaintop
And in the valleys. Aye! and through the dark
Thou hast been to the green Hill far away,
And there thy life melted into His, thence
As a ripple from His smile thou’rt come. Hail!
All Hail! the blessing of thy soulful words.
And now thou’rt on the breast of Jesus Christ
Perfectly good—thou knowest now the way
Thou traversed here, but if thou wert still here
I’d long to see thee, clasp thy hand, and pray,
Speechless from love because thou knowest me.
Mayhap strange unto thee things thou wrotest
Might have appeared, but He who knoweth all
Guided thy hand. Thou’rt happy, God be blest.
Nearer to Jesus hath thy poem led
A soul perplexed by thought for him too great.
If thou, O Poet, can behold us here,
O pray that I may like thee be good
And humbly learn of Jesus, that His life
Be manifest in my life and work, and glorified
Even as He was in thine.
Then when morning breaketh, and away
Flee all the shadows, may I grasp thy hand,
Look into thy face, and call thee sister.