But I leave all, O Son of man,
Put off my shoes, and come to thee!
Most lovely thou of all I see,
Most potent thou of all that can!
As child forsakes his favourite toy,
His sisters' sport, his new-found nest,
And, climbing to his mother's breast,
Enjoys yet more his late-left joy—
I lose to find. On fair-browed bride
Fair pearls their fairest light afford;
So, gathered round thy glory, Lord,
All glory else is glorified.
SYMPATHY.
Grief held me silent in my seat;
I neither moved nor smiled:
Joy held her silent at my feet,
My shining lily-child.
She raised her face and looked in mine;
She deemed herself denied;
The door was shut, there was no shine;
Poor she was left outside!
Once, twice, three times, with infant grace
Her lips my name did mould;
Her face was pulling at my face—
She was but ten months old.
I saw; the sight rebuked my sighs;
It made me think—Does God
Need help from his poor children's eyes
To ease him of his load?
Ah, if he did, how seldom then
The Father would be glad!
If comfort lay in the eyes of men,
He little comfort had!
We cry to him in evil case,
When comfort sore we lack;
And when we troubled seek his face,
Consoled he sends us back;