THE SINGER'S MESSAGE by Hope Onslow

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 18, 1903

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 29, No. 11.

THE SINGER'S MESSAGE.

By Hope Onslow

A stranger, I passed with the church-going throngs, And entered a temple with them for an hour; I would hear a new sermon, a prayer, a few songs; But hoped not for comfort, revealing, nor power. I would pass through the hour tho' nothing might sway, Or I might staunch some hunger of heart, maybe pray.

The silence fell softly, the light was subdued, The spell of the Spirit divine seemed to move. I bowed my cold heart in a reverent mood And knew how I hungered for heaven's sweet love. “The Lord's in His temple, O bow heart and head, Let earth be in silence,” the minister said.

The pure prayer that followed probed into my soul, As lights pierce the shadows, and laid my need bare,— The misunderstanding, the weakness, the dole, The keen disappointments, the thorn I must wear. And close to the pain which my self-pity made The Man of all sorrows He lifted, who loved.

“O Jesus,” my heart cried, “if only again Thy face I might see in the midst of earth's hate, If only once more Thou wast here among men, And I could but find Thee, O how could I wait? I would run, I would fall at Thy feet, and I know Thy love would flow through me, and heal all my woe.”

“For Thou art not man—Thou art God—Thou art Love, Thou knowest the wounds in the children of men,— Aye, the children, the little ones, pleading above Because there's no refuge below. O, again The weary would seek Thee, and press for the hem Of Thy robe as of old, when Thou comfortest them.”

Just then came a note of magical depth, Deep, sweet, like an angel's; I lifted my face And saw the sweet singer whose strange eyes had wept, But whose face was alight with a heaven-like grace, As if the deep need of my heart she did ken. She sang, “Christ is coming, is coming again.”

The church seemed to fade from my view, and above The heavens were opened to heaven's white arch, And King of the hosts was the Christ-face of love And His armies had gathered about Him to march. And swift through my heart poured His love to console, He knew, O He knew and had solaced my soul.

The sweet song was over, the sermon was given, But whether I heard it or not, let it be. I know that the hour seemed radiant with heaven Because of the singer's sweet message to me. Because with fresh joy, it had come to my ken That Jesus, my Bridegroom, was coming again.

What mattered the sorrow or joy of the years? For life or for death there was hope in my breast. The message already had changed all my tears Into rivers of gladness, and life was made blest. With all the new vision of love, I lost pain In the joy that my Saviour was coming again.

What a message was mine to be given abroad! And sin-sick and weary were waiting to hear As again and again I rejoiced before God And sang in the message that faith had made dear. Life found its lost channel of love to all men In singing this comfort, “Christ cometh again.”

HOPE ONSLOW.