THE WAYSIDE CROSS by Edward G. Wheeler

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · May 7, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 19.

THE WAYSIDE CROSS.

By Edward G. Wheeler

[Edward G. Wheeler, in April Success.]

Across the blue of a summer sky The storm-king urges his coursers black; His rumbling chariots roll on high, And the lightning flashes along their track.

Facing the blast and the blinding rain, From a wayside cross the Christ looks down, His eyes of compassion filled with pain, His temples torn by the cruel crown.

But, safely sheltered amid the storm, And twittering softly, as in a nest, Beneath an arm of the sacred form, A bevy of sparrows has flown to rest.

They have no knowledge of rite or creed, They raise no question of whence or why; They know that here, in time of need, Are shelter and peace when the storm is high.

I look, and ponder: “Were it not best, When the storms of life obscure the sky, To turn from reason’s unending quest, And on as simple a faith rely?”

But lo! a rift in the cloud appears, A gleam of heaven’s abiding blue, And, like a rapture that shines through tears, A flood of glory comes sweeping through.

The bow of promise its beauty flings Above the stricken and sullen earth; Again, with flutter of eager wings, The little birds flit joyfully forth.

What now, to them, is the wayside cross When skies are clearing, and earth grows gay? With lives unaltered for gain or loss, They chirp and chatter upon their way.

Then to my heart there comes a prayer,— “Not like the birds would I come to Thee, O Lord, for shelter from strife and care, From the pain and peril of life to flee.

“Didst Thou seek shelter, when o’er Thy head The clouds of muttering hatred burst? When friends were fleeing, and, in their stead, Came cross and spear and the raging thirst?

“I ask not shelter, but ask to be With Thine own resolute soul endowed, In time of trial to stand like Thee, To front the tempest or face the crowd.

“And, when the glory regilds the sky, Thy spirit of service to me still give, For I would be able Thy death to die, Were I but able Thy life to live.”