Once I thought to scale so soon Heights above the changing moon; Now, I thank God for delay-- To-day, it yet is called to-day. While I stumble, halt and blind, Lo! He waiteth to be kind; 10 Bless me soon, or bless me slow, Except He bless, I let not go. Once for earth I laid my plan, Once I leaned on strength of man, When my hope was swept aside, I stayed my broken heart on pride: Broken reed hath pierced my hand; Fell my house I built on sand; Roofless, wounded, maimed by sin, Fightings without and fears within: 20 Yet, a tree, He feeds my root; Yet, a branch, He prunes for fruit; Yet, a sheep, these eves and morns, He seeks for me among the thorns. With Thine Image stamped of old, Find Thy coin more choice than gold; Known to Thee by name, recall To Thee Thy home-sick prodigal. Sacrifice and Offering None there is that I can bring, 30 None, save what is Thine alone: I bring Thee, Lord, but of Thine Own-- Broken Body, Blood Outpoured, These I bring, my God, my Lord; Wine of Life, and Living Bread, With these for me Thy Board is spread. CONFERENCE BETWEEN CHRIST, THE SAINTS, AND THE SOUL (_Lyra Eucharistica_, 1863.) I am pale with sick desire, For my heart is far away From this world's fitful fire And this world's waning day; In a dream it overleaps A world of tedious ills To where the sunshine sleeps On th' everlasting hills. Say the Saints--There Angels ease us Glorified and white. 10 They say--We rest in Jesus, Where is not day nor night. My Soul saith--I have sought For a home that is not gained, I have spent yet nothing bought, Have laboured but not attained; My pride strove to rise and grow, And hath but dwindled down; My love sought love, and lo! Hath not attained its crown. 20 Say the Saints--Fresh Souls increase us, None languish nor recede. They say--We love our Jesus, And He loves us indeed. I cannot rise above, I cannot rest beneath, I cannot find out Love, Nor escape from Death; Dear hopes and joys gone by Still mock me with a name; 30 My best beloved die And I cannot die with them. Say the Saints--No deaths decrease us, Where our rest is glorious. They say--We live in Jesus, Who once died for us. Oh, my Soul, she beats her wings And pants to fly away Up to immortal Things In the Heavenly day: 40 Yet she flags and almost faints; Can such be meant for me? Come and see--say the Saints. Saith Jesus--Come and see. Say the Saints--His Pleasures please us Before God and the Lamb. Come and taste My Sweets--saith Jesus-- Be with Me where I am. COME UNTO ME (_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1864.)