p. 12 | JESUS OUR LORD

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 12, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 11.

JESUS OUR LORD.

“If I had dwelt”—so mused a tender woman, All fine emotions stirred Through pondering o’er that life, divine yet human, Told in the Sacred Word—

“If I had dwelt of old a Jewish maiden, In some Judean street Where Jesus walked, and heard His word so laden With comfort strangely sweet;

“And seen the face where utmost pity blended With each rebuke of wrong; I would have left my lattice and descended, And followed with the throng.

“If I had been the daughter, jewel-girdled, Of some rich rabbi there; Seeing the sick, blind, halt, my blood had curdled At sight of such despair.

“And I had wrenched the sapphires from my fillet, Nor let one spark remain; Snatched up my gold, amid the crowd to spill it, For pity of their pain.

“I would have let the palsied fingers hold me; I would have walked between The Marys and Salome, while they told me About the Magdalene.

“‘Foxes have holes,’—I think my heart had broken To hear the words so said,— ‘While Christ had not’—were sadder ever spoken?— ‘A place to lay His head!’

“I would have flung abroad my doors before Him; And in my joy have been First on the threshold, eager to adore Him, And crave His entrance in!”

Ah, would you so? Without a recognition You passed Him yesterday; Jostled aside, unhelped, His mute petition, And calmly went your way.

With warmth and comfort garmented and girdled, Before your window-sill Sweep heart-sick crowds; and if your blood is curdled, You wear your jewels still.

You catch aside your robes lest want should clutch them. In its implorings wild; Or lest some woeful penitent might touch them, And you be thus defiled.

O dreamers, dreaming that your faith is keeping All service free from blot, Christ daily walks your streets, sick, suffering, weeping, And ye perceive Him not!

—Anon.