My cross was oft' covered with roses,
Just hiding the sly, cruel thorn,
My homestead built out of dust only,
Has crumbled; to-day I am born.
Just born in the light of thy kingdom,
Hast house in thy domain to give?
A homestead to fill with the loved ones,
Where with Thee in peace we may live.
I know that my spirit is earth-stained,
I'd wash it in yon flowing stream,
I've come, oh my Saviour, all broken,
Are hopes to be only a dream?
He turned with a look of compassion,
His voice, as sweet waters and low,
My child, I've a palace built for thee,
Which time nor rude winds can o'erthrow.
I've watched thee in all of thy wanderings,
E'en when thy homestead of clay fell;
I list for thy knock at our portals,
Heard thee faintly ask, "Is all well?"
When doubts have assailed, I would press thee,
In sorrow, stood oft' by thy side;
I've quelled maddened waves as they dashed thee,
Soul, ring heaven's bells and abide.
Thy footsteps shall fall in soft places,
And by mirrored waters can'st roam;
Thy kindred, thy Father, shall greet thee,
To peace, beauty, love,--welcome home.
~Peace.~
Father, before Thee I am kneeling
In gratitude and love,
Sad, weary years I sought, appealing
For succor from above.
My cries seemed wild as unavailing
Before Thy chastening rod,
My spirit in the strife oft failing
To trust Thee, O my God!
When floods of sorrow o'er me sweeping,
Thy hand I could not see;
Then Thou, when heart and strength were yielding,
Bade me to cling to thee.
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