The Supreme Attraction
By Charles A. Fox
“MARRED more than any man’s,” yet there’s no place
In this wide universe but gains new grace,
Richer and fuller, from that marred Face! O Saviour Christ, those precious wounds of thine
Make doubly precious these poor wounds of mine;
Teach me to die with thee the death divine! All wounds and woes of flesh, once made thine own,
Add color to the rainbow round the throne,
And save from loneliness saints else alone. Beloved ones are hurrying in, and all
The ground is strewn with blossoms they let fall,
In haste to enter life’s high festival. Heaven beckons me, I press me toward the mark
Of my high calling—hark, he calls, O hark!
That wounded Face moves toward me through the dark. —Charles A. Fox, in the Christian.