Thus did I almost pay full score
For that my first and youthful quest
For perfectness, and evermore
I’ve found this is her stern behest:
Who would find me must give his all,
And even then may sorely fail,
But it adds glory to the soul
To walk in the Immortal’s trail.
THE CHRISTMAS CACTUS
Born on the desert’s sandy plain,
Born among thorns and heat and pain,
Brought to my home, amid cold and snow,
Unfolding blossoms of blood-drop glory,
Telling in symbol the Christ-child story,
And the way that He still must go.
For tokens of joy in a world of woe,
’Mid sorrow and loneliness often grow,
The word of truth and the song’s clear strain,
That warms the heart when the earth is frozen,
The Lord of life has nourished and chosen
In deserts of thorns and pain.
But the beauty and joy of my Cactus flower
Has sweetest meaning at that great hour,
When the church-bells ring on Christmas eve,
Then its crimson seems with a wonder glowing,
And from its petals a love is flowing,
Which none but Christ can give.
CHRISTMAS NIGHT
Night, and a lonely star,
Night, with its deep repose,
A gleam of light from afar—
To souls oppressed with woes.
Light of the Bethlehem-star
On the inn and the shepherd-cotes,
That breaks o’er the golden bar,
Whence the angel-anthem floats.
Song of peace upon earth,
Peace which to heaven has fled,
But shall find its second birth,
Where the blood of millions is shed.