Poems (Henderson)/An Invocation
For works with similar titles, see Invocation.
AN INVOCATION.
Rise up, Oh! soul from slumber,
Rise up and go thy way,
There are crosses without number,
That thou must bear to day.
There are pilgrims by the wayside,
Who heavy burdens bear,
Of grief and bitter longing,
Of pain and worldly care.
Rise up and go thy way,
There are crosses without number,
That thou must bear to day.
There are pilgrims by the wayside,
Who heavy burdens bear,
Of grief and bitter longing,
Of pain and worldly care.
Oh soul! thou may'st not linger,
Within the cool green shade,
While all along the highway,
Resounds the pilgrim's tread.
The iron bands of tyrrany,
Clasp round and sore oppress,
Thy brethren, and injustice rules,
God's courts of holiness.
Within the cool green shade,
While all along the highway,
Resounds the pilgrim's tread.
The iron bands of tyrrany,
Clasp round and sore oppress,
Thy brethren, and injustice rules,
God's courts of holiness.
There are little waifs astray,
In the city's crowded streets,
That thy hand may pluck away,
Like brands from burning heat,
There are manly lips that quaff,
This day, the first red cup,
Wherein the adder coils and sends,
Its poisonous incense up.
In the city's crowded streets,
That thy hand may pluck away,
Like brands from burning heat,
There are manly lips that quaff,
This day, the first red cup,
Wherein the adder coils and sends,
Its poisonous incense up.
There are those, Oh! God forgive them,
Who this very day will seek,
Their prey among the lowly,
Toiling on with faded cheek.
Striving for the meagre pittance,
That the soul and body join,
Thou, Oh! soul, may'st breathe a prayer,
That He will keep his own.
Who this very day will seek,
Their prey among the lowly,
Toiling on with faded cheek.
Striving for the meagre pittance,
That the soul and body join,
Thou, Oh! soul, may'st breathe a prayer,
That He will keep his own.
There's a work, Oh! soul, so great,
In our fair Christ-land to do,
That from its might thou may'st shrink,
Lest God's own power help thee through.
Myriad halls of shame and sorrow,
That bring tears from angel eyes,
Where the weary, and forsaken,
Welcomed are as greedy prize.
In our fair Christ-land to do,
That from its might thou may'st shrink,
Lest God's own power help thee through.
Myriad halls of shame and sorrow,
That bring tears from angel eyes,
Where the weary, and forsaken,
Welcomed are as greedy prize.
Shall we seek them out, and hold them,
In the pulpit's shrines of truth,
Instil their wrongs, and painful vices,
In the pure white hearts of Youth?
No! human hearts were ne'er made better,
By the sight of shame and vice,
Better carry the dire misfortune,
To the gracious throne of Christ.
In the pulpit's shrines of truth,
Instil their wrongs, and painful vices,
In the pure white hearts of Youth?
No! human hearts were ne'er made better,
By the sight of shame and vice,
Better carry the dire misfortune,
To the gracious throne of Christ.
One way, and only one there lieth,
Through this desert waste of shame,
To redeem from endless scorning,
This great blot on woman's name.
Stronger hearts must first be melted,
They who willingly betray,
They who Virtue's shining jewels,
From her casket pluck away.
Through this desert waste of shame,
To redeem from endless scorning,
This great blot on woman's name.
Stronger hearts must first be melted,
They who willingly betray,
They who Virtue's shining jewels,
From her casket pluck away.
With them this giant reformation,
Must begin, in Jesus' name,
Let them on God's strength relying,
Woman save from greater shame.
Oh! how many of His children,
Preach and pray for Magdalen,
Who would feel contaminated,
If she touched their garment's hem.
Must begin, in Jesus' name,
Let them on God's strength relying,
Woman save from greater shame.
Oh! how many of His children,
Preach and pray for Magdalen,
Who would feel contaminated,
If she touched their garment's hem.
Man! rise up in holy grandeur,
Cast thy robe of sin away,
Helping to reclaim the erring,
From the broad and sinful way.
Thou wilt find a sweeter blessing,
In the honored name of wife,
Than the husks of sin polluting,
All thine inner truth and life.
If thou clothe with purity,
Thyself, let woman go her way,
She will prove thy truest treasure,
She will never go astray.
Cast thy robe of sin away,
Helping to reclaim the erring,
From the broad and sinful way.
Thou wilt find a sweeter blessing,
In the honored name of wife,
Than the husks of sin polluting,
All thine inner truth and life.
If thou clothe with purity,
Thyself, let woman go her way,
She will prove thy truest treasure,
She will never go astray.