The Beggar's Petition by C. M. Willis

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Mar 13, 1866

The Beggar's Petition.

By C. M. Willis

ROLLING through the vaults of Heaven, Circling round the dazzling throne, Burst the songs of praises given By the bright admiring throng; Notes of joy from Heaven's orchestral, Make the glorious arches ring; Songs of praise from lips celestial— 'Tis the song the angels sing.

Higher still the anthem rises, Louder still its volumes swell, Hallelujahs, shouts of praises, From their golden harp-strings fell. Cast their glittering crowns before him, Veil their faces with their wings, All the shining hosts adore him, All the court of Heaven rings.

But alone and unattended, Came a low, a plaintive strain, With the angels' song it blended, Echoed back their sweet refrain. Silent grew the harps in Heaven, Silent grew the radiant throng, As they list with rapture riven, To the beggar's humble song.

It ascended up in meekness, Mixed with bitter tears and shame, Telling of his great unfitness, But to speak his Father's name: Father, be my sins forgiven, All my life could not atone, Let my name be marked in Heaven, For the sake of thy dear Son.

Sighings deep marked his contrition,— But with joy the shining host Gathered up his meek petition, Not a single groan was lost. Joyed with thrilling rapture o'er it, Mingled with it, incense sweet, To the dazzling throne they bore it, Laid it at the Father's feet.

Long they wondered at salvation, At the Lamb's redeeming power, Then in notes of exultation, Burst their swelling strains once more. Music shook bright Heaven's portals, Made its gorgeous arches ring; For a song was sung by mortals, Which the angels could not sing. C. M. WILLIS.