  The following poem was given at the conclusion of a lecture upon “Jesus the Medium, and Socrates the Philosopher.” “A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another.” John xiii. 34. O ye! upon whose favored shrine Love hath a rich libation poured— Who, even as a thing divine, Are fondly worshiped and adored— Spare but one kindly thought for those Who stand in loneliness apart, Worn by that weariest of woes, The hopeless hunger of the heart. As deadly as the dagger’s thrust, Envenomed as a serpent’s fangs, It eats like slow, corroding rust, And lengthens out in lingering pangs. To pass this wasting sorrow by; For countless hearts attest the while, That thus, alas! too many die. I once was of the earth like you; I loved, and hoped, and feared as well, But on my heart the kindly dew Of fond affection never fell. An orphan in my early years, Mine was a hard and cheerless lot, For I was doomed, with prayers and tears, To seek for love and find it not. A bird upon a stormy sea, A lamb without a sheltering fold, A vine with no supporting tree, A blossom blighted by the cold,— The warmth of kindly atmospheres Gave to my life no quickened start; Love’s sunshine melted not to tears The drifted sorrows of my heart. Fresh from the innocence of youth, I entered on the rude world’s strife, But evermore this venomed tooth Was gnawing at the root of life. And what should save me from my fall? The tempter whispered, “Lawless lust Is better than no love at all!” Then with a flinty face I turned, Defiant of the social ban, For my poor, famished nature yearned For e’en such sympathy from man. But no! I heard, as from above, This truth that many learn too late, That man’s unhallowed, selfish love, Is far more cruel than his hate. I shrank from Passion’s burning breath, Those sensuous lips and eyes of flame, And from that furnace fire of death My outraged heart unblemished came. But darker, deeper grew the night That closed around my suffering soul, And Fate’s black billows, flecked with white, O’er all my being seemed to roll. At length, within a maniac’s cell, I moaned and muttered day by day, Till, like a loathsome thing, I fell From human consciousness away. For horror choked my struggling breath, And my poor heart, with love and grief, Was famished even unto death. Unconscious of my spirit’s change, Long did I linger near the earth, Until a being, kind, though strange, Recalled me to my conscious worth. From thence I seemed to be transformed, Renewed as by redeeming grace, And then my soul the purpose formed— To seek “the Saviour of the race.” My aspirations served to bear My earnest spirit swift away, Until a heaven, serene and fair, My onward progress seemed to stay. I came where two immortals trod, In friendly converse, side by side; “O, lead me to the Son of God, That I may worship him!” I cried. One turned—and from his aspect mild A benison of love was shed— “O, say, whom do you seek, dear child? We all are sons of God,” he said. But him who died on Calvary— The humble-hearted Nazarene!” He meekly answered, “I am he!” “O, then, as sinful Mary knelt, In tearful sorrow, at thy feet, So does my icy nature melt, And her sweet reverence I repeat. O God! O Christ! O Living All! ‘Thou art the Life, the Truth, the Way’; Lo! at thy feet I humbly fall— Cast not my sinful soul away!” “Poor bleeding heart! poor wounded dove!” In tones of gentleness, he said: “How hast thou famished for that love Which is indeed ‘the living bread.’ Kneel not to me; the Power Divine, Than I, is greater, mightier far; His glories lesser lights outshine, As noonday hides the brightest star.” “You died for all the world!” I cried, “And therefore do I bend the knee.” “My friend,” Long ere I suffered, died for me. I gave my body to the cross, But when the sum is counted up, Great is our gain, and small our loss. “Not thus would I be deified, Or claim the homage that men pay; But he who takes me for his guide, Makes me his Life, his Truth, his Way. O, heaven shall not descend to man, Nor man ascend to heaven above, Till he shall see Salvation’s plan Is written in the law of love. “Dear sister! let your fears depart— I have no power to bid you live, But I can feed your famished heart Upon the love I freely give. Mine are the hearts that men condemn, Or crush in their ambitious strife, And through my love I am to them ‘The Resurrection and the Life.’” He raised me gently from his feet, And laid my head upon his breast. O God! how calm, how pure and sweet, How more than peaceful was that rest! It fills me with a joy serene— Nor have I hungered since I met The gentle-hearted Nazarene. |
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