And one there came, sad-eyed, his brow still raw From pressure of an earthly crown. He too Sought glorious entrance through wide-opened gates, And stood perplext. He had borne well his part, And served his people and his God, and died The Martyr's death, and yet he found no gate. "I fain would rest," he cried. "My life has been One ceaseless striving. I would enter in." And from the City wall the clear voice cried,-- "_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_." Perplext he stood, then set himself to wait, Till Patient Waiting should discern the Gate. And one who had had riches beyond most, And yet subserved them to his Master's good, Came searching for the heavenly gates, and stood Amazed to find no opening in the walls. "I gave of all I had," he cried, "and held Nought as my own,--yet entrance is denied." And from the City wall the clear voice cried,-- "_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_." He stood perplext, then set himself to wait Till Charity should point him to the Gate. And many more there were who entrance craved, And sought the Great White Gates, and stood perplext. And ever, from within, the clear voice cried,-- "_Come! Enter in! The Gate is open wide_." They sought in vain, and set themselves to wait Till Light was given them to discern the Gate. And then--a child in white came carolling Along the arduous road we all had trod. He stopped and looked, then laughed with childish glee,-- "_Why wait ye here without? Come, follow me_!"-- And passed, scarce bending, through the lowly door,-- We heard his singing,--him we saw no more. The woman stooped and looked, with eyes that shone, Into the doorway where the child had gone; Then loosed her robes and dropped, and in a shift Of pure white samite, on her hands and knees She crept into the doorway and was gone, And we stood gazing at the way she went. And, one by one, they followed. First the Judge Laid by his robes, and bowed him to the ground, And followed--where the little child had led. And he whose brow had borne that weighty crown Bent low and followed,--where the little child had led. And he who knew so much of earthly things Discarded them, and, on his hands and knees, Crept through the doorway,--where the little child had led. And he of riches laid him in the dust And followed,--where the little child had led. And, last of all, the War Lord cast aside His victor's wreaths, and all his pomp and pride, And followed,--where the little child had led. And, groping through my fears, I bowed my head And followed,--where the little child had led. BRING US THE LIGHT I hear a clear voice calling, calling, Calling out of the night, O, you who live in the Light of Life, Bring us the Light! We are bound in the chains of darkness, Our eyes received no sight, O, you who have never been bond or blind, Bring us the Light! We live amid turmoil and horror, Where might is the only right, O, you to whom life is liberty, Bring us the Light!