MYRRH-BEARERS by Margaret J. Preston

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Aug 26, 1880

MYRRH-BEARERS.

By Margaret J. Preston

THREE women crept at break of day, Agrope along the shadowy way Where Joseph's tomb and garden lay; Each in her throbbing bosom bore A burden of such fragrant store, As never there had lain before. Spices, the purest, richest, best, That e'er the musky East possessed; From Ind to Araby the Blest.

Had they, with sorrow-riven hearts, Searched all Jerusalem's costliest marts In quest of nards, whose pungent arts Should the dead sepulchre imbue With vital odors through and through, 'Twas all their love had leave to do; Christ did not need their gifts; and yet Did either Mary once regret Her offering? Did Salome fret Over those unused aloes? Nay! They did not count as waste that day What they had brought their Lord! The way Home seemed the path to Heaven. They bear Thenceforth about the robes they wear The clinging perfume everywhere.

So ministering, as erst did these, Go women forth by twos and threes (Unmindful of their morning ease) Through tragic darkness, murk, and dim, Where'er they see the faintest rim Of promise—all for sake of Him Who rose from Joseph's tomb. They hold It just such joy as these of old To tell the tale the Marys told.

Myrrh-bearers still—at home, abroad, What paths have holy women trod, Burdened with votive gifts for God!— Rare gifts, whose chiefest worth was priced By this one thought, that all sufficed— Their spices have been bruised for Christ. —Margaret J. Preston.