"COME; FOR ALL THINGS ARE NOW READY."
By Hope Onslow
I DREAMED that a messenger from the King
Uttered a message that stirred my soul,
Offered a robe and a golden ring,
And a song of joy for my wail of dole,
And pointed up to the palace gate,
And hurried on as if he were late,
Crying and calling in every street
"Come to the feast, come all and eat;
Come, for all things are now ready." One turned to his farm, and one to his team,
And one to his bride,—one here, one there.
Some said, " 'Tis a myth, and a foolish dream;"
Some, that the robe was exceedingly fair.
Some scoffed at the message and messenger,
And some did weep for the rags they wore,
And some bought others of pleasure or care,
And yet the messenger cried the more,
"Come; for all things are now ready." When the gates of the rich were closed to him,
And they refused what he offered them,
He showed his glories to eyes grown dim,
And gave them the ring and the costly gem.
He turned to the poor and lost and lone,
And won them sweetly by what he read
Of a place at the feast by the side of the
throne;
And they put on the garments of praise,
and said,
"Come; for all things are now ready." And suddenly seemed the guests were
called.
Some came halting, and some came
blind,
Wearing their garments of rags, fore-
stalled
To meet the King with rebellious mind.
And some in the garments the Master
sent,
White as wool and of glorious light.
And angels harped on an instrument,
As the chosen came to the portals bright,
"Come for all things are now
ready." And ere they entered, the King came in
To examine the guests, and when He
found
Some without garments save those of sin,
He cast them out; but the pure He
crowned.
They marched straight on to the realms
of peace,
Where the song fails not, and there falls
no night,
And I heard the echoes that did not cease
Come from the harps of the saints in
white,
"Come, for all things are now
ready." And the Bridegroom came, and raised His arm,
And beams came forth from the place of power;
And His voice had a music of utmost charm,
As He greeted His guests in that happy hour,
And bade them welcome, greatest and least,
To the marriage supper of countless cost,
And girded Himself, and served the feast
To innumerable thousands who once were lost,
Who had come when all things were made ready. This was the dream, that was not a dream;
For, lo, when I wakened, at my door
I saw the messenger's garment gleam;
I heard him cry as I'd heard before.
I left my weaving of worthless life;
I threw my garments of rags away;
I donned the garment with glory rife;
I joined in the message, and gladly say,
" Come; for all things are now ready." Will you come, O youth, O little child?
Will you come, O mother, father, friend?
The night of earth is fierce and wild;
The feasting of pleasure will have sad end.
Will you come for the garment of Jesus' worth,
For the crown of love, for the feast of bliss,
And call to the sad-hearted children of earth
To come to the feast that they should not miss?
" Come, for all things are now ready."