CRUCE AND CORONA.
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Of sad Gethsemane's great anguish-scene.And oh! what utter woe in that dark hourCould from Omnipotence thus wring the cry,"If it be possible, let this cup pass"!
If love mean sacrifice, then here it foundA sacrifice full equal to itself;Love infinite, its sacrifice the same.
And in this silent meditative hourA pow'r upon Corona's soul doth move,A mighty pow'r it never knew before.
From early childhood she had loved the OneWho came to earth to ope the gates of heav'n.She knew that God doth all His children love;But as upon her soul there rushes nowMost vivid consciousness of that great love,In length, breadth, depth, and height immeasurable,She realizes first in all her lifeThe pow'r, the beauty of God's love to her,The holy friendship of the Crucified. It is as if some fountain in her soulBy some celestial touch hath been unsealed;And calmly, yet resistlessly, it flowsTo meet its primal source,—the heart of God.
