  NOT only in the legend does he stand Beside the river current rushing fast, A dim-drawn giant figure, strong and vast, His staff within his hand; But in our own day visible, beside The darker stream of human pain and sin, Our eyes have watched him, battling hard to win For weaker souls a pathway through the tide. Upheld by him and safely carried o’er The waves which else had overwhelmed and drowned, How many a faint and doubting heart hath found Glad footing on the unhoped-for, distant shore! And still as his strong, tireless arm again And yet again their burden raised and took, You read in the deep reverence of his look He did the work for God and not for men. Christophorus our saint, named now with tears. The deeds he did were Christ’s, the words he said, All his strong, vital, splendid strength he laid At the Lord’s feet through the unstinting years. And now beside that Lord in highest Heaven, Past the dark stream of Death, which all must tread, He rests secure, with joy upon his head, And a “New Name” which hath to him been given. But still to memory’s eye he stands the same, A stalwart shape where the deep waters run, Upbearing, aiding, strengthening every one, Carrying them onward in his Lord’s dear name. |
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