Poems (Henderson)/A Sabbath Hymn
A SABBATH HYMN.
Treasure up, Oh! Christian gleaner, In thy harvest-field of Life,Every kindly word and action, Scattered 'mid the weeds of strife,For, mayhap, there may have fallen, From some sower's garnered store,One golden seed, of Christ's own reaping, That hath yielded, many more.
Not where yellow sheaves are shining, Bursting with their golden grain,Bend thy steps, nor stand repining, That thy hand hath little gained.
At your door there may stand fainting, Hungry, friendless, and alone,A fellow-creature, sadly pleading, Would'st thou give, for bread, a stone?'Mid the labyrinths of creed, Hedged by thorns of unbelief,Some poor sinner may be struggling, Haste thou, to that soul's relief.
Seize thou, with a grasp unflinching, Clothed in armor of the Lord,The net, the atheist unwincing, Spreads athwart the sinner's road.Tear its flimsy strands asunder, By the power, God's strength hath wrought,Let the battle-cry of Ages, Ring through all the grooves of thought.
Tell, how when morn's ccrimson glory, Soon eclipsed by Bethlehem's star,Shone o'er Judea's watchful shepherds, How it guided them afar.How, when hosts of shining angels, Filled the Heaven's triumphant dome,That the morning stars together, Sang for joy, the Christ is born.
Tell of that dark day, when Heaven,Frowned, and veiled its shining sun, When the temple's vail was rent,At the deed on Calvary done. How in shining clouds ascending,Emanuel reigns at God's right hand, How His glory ever sheddeth,Its rays through every land.
Lift thine eyes, Oh! Christian reaper,Thou by faith shalt see the light, That on Patmos' isle descended,When cried the angel, Write, Thou shalt see the wall of jasper,And the shining gates of pearl, Thou shalt taste thy life's fruition,Free from earthly care and toil.
