Ps. xc. I.
My Beloved, from
earth's many voices
Welcome
me to Thy seclusion sweet--
Let me still, and
restful, and adoring,
Sit
with Mary at Thy blessed Feet--
In Thy secret
place, alone with Thee,
None beside to
hear, and none to see.
Led by wnadering
gleams o'er fen and moorland,
What
are we, outwearied at our best?
For the heart
amidst the world's allurings
Craveth
evermore for God and rest--
God and rest--all
else the weary load
Of a toiler on an
endless road.
Blessed he, who
from the strife has entered
God's
fair Home of peace for evermore--
Sounds of the great
world's confusion murmuring
As
the sea upon a distant shore;
Here, ere yet his
earthly day is done,
His eternal task of
love begun.
In the desert
still, yet by the river
Bearing
heavenly fruit, a healing tree;
In the Spirit and
in truth adoring
Him
whom none but eyes anointed see--
Marvels of God's
secret place made known
Unto him who dwells
with God alone,--
There the lonely
heart His sweetness learneth,
Sheltered
there beneath the shadowing wings--
In the depths of
hidden rest encompassed
By
the tender gleams of heavenly things;
Who amidst the
world's sad mirth can tell,
What it is apart in
God to dwell?
G. T. S.