All these he left, with sad but willing heart,
Though unallur'd by honours, wealth, or fame;
In them not even his wishes claim'd a part,
And the world knew not of his very name.
Canst thou not guess what taught his steps to stray?
'Twas love, but not such love as worldlings own,
That often smiles its sweetest to betray,
And stabs the breast that offered it a throne!
'Twas love to God, and love to all mankind!
His Master bade the obedient servant go,
And try if he in distant realms could find
Some who His name and saving grace would know.
'Twas this that nerved him when he saw the tears
His aged mother at their parting shed;
'Twas this that taught her how to calm her fears,
And beg a heavenly blessing on his head.
'Twas this that made his father calmly bear
A godly sorrow, deep, but undismay'd,
And bade him humbly ask of God in prayer,
His virtuous son to counsel, guide, and aid.
And when he rose to bless, and wish him well,
And bent a head with age and sorrow gray—
E'en when he breath'd a fond and last farewell,
Half sad, half joyful, dashed his tears away.
"And go," he said, "though I with mortal eyes
Shall ne'er behold thy filial reverence more;
But when from earth to heaven our spirits rise,
The Hand that gave him shall my child restore.
"I bid thee go, though human tears will steal
From eyes that see the course thou hast to run;
And God forgive me if I wrongly feel,
Like Abraham call'd to sacrifice his son!"
And he is gone, with ardent steps he prest
Across the hills to where the vessel lay,
And soon I ween upon the ocean's breast
They saw the white sails bearing him away.
And did he go unfriended, poor, alone?
Did none of those who, in a favour'd land
The shelter of the gospel tree had known,
Desire to see its peaceful shade expand?