CHRIST, LET ME COME TO THEE.
By Hattie A. Warner
Christ, let me nearer come;
My soul would gaze
On the unrivaled riches of thy grace;
Would see the brightness of Heaven's glory shine
In holy radiance from the brow divine;
And yet afar I stand, and through the gloom
I scarce discern thy face. Oh! bid me come more near;
I've waited long
To hear thy voice above earth's murmuring throng.
But when thy tones fall on my listening ear,
'Tis like faint music from some far-off sphere,
And sometimes I have even failed to hear,
Or understood thee wrong. Fain would my soul be blest;
Sadly I stand,
Salvation's unfilled cup within my hand,
I taste the ripples of redemption's streams,
But lead me where the unwasting fountain gleams.
Oh! show me where thy flocks at noontime rest,
By heavenly zephyrs fanned. Yes, I will come to thee,
Will haste again
Through the dense crowd to touch thy garment's hem.
Oh! let me place in thine my trembling hand,
“And walk beside thee to the holy land;”
Choose thou the way, if thou but share with me
The gladness and the pain. —HATTIE A. WARNER, in Earnest Christian.