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MY SONNET

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Jan 30, 1907

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 33, No. 5.

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MY SONNET.

By Charles E. Martin

DEAR Lord, in grief I gaze upon Thy face Writhed in agony, yet divinely fair. I hear Thy cry upon the dark'ning air! And 'neath Thy crown of thorns, sweet love I trace.
Thou Son of God! Thou Saviour of the race! What son of man hath heart to breathe Thy prayer? Can mortal love with that of Thine compare? Thou Christ, revealer of redeeming grace.
Teach me to understand my ransom price, Let my sad heart bleed till its cost I learn. Teach me the worth of blood-bought paradise. Give me, O Christ, the wisdom to discern The true import of Thy great sacrifice; For this, dear Lord, make me forever yearn. —Charles E. Martin.