I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH.
By M. E. D. G.
OFTEN I saw in the market place
A tall, old man with a careworn face,
Changing the moans of the weak and sad
To songs and shouts of the strong and glad. Unceasing and bold, his voice was heard
Giving the heedless a warning word,
Denouncing the Pharisee's vile pretense,
The blatant blasphemer's want of sense,
The traders who cheat, and schemers keen,
Working men's ruin with friendly mein,
Calling for justice on kings to fall,
The same as that dealt to robbers small;
Tearing away from the judges high,
The ermine that hides the well-paid lie;
Active his hands were, and strong and clean,
Smiting the proud, and raising the mean. But once on a dark and stormy day,
The walls of the gathering rage gave way,
And the dreadful tempest that fell on him,
Crushed the love and life out from heart and limb.
Bruised and bleeding, his poor corpse lay,
Untended, alone, that dreary day;
So I sat down in the mourner's place
To honor and guard the careworn face;
And waiting, I wept in wrath and shame
His noble life, and dishonored name. Then cried my heart from turbulent deeps,
"The love of God like his vengeance sleeps
On the whole broad earth, beneath his eye
The smoke of man's torment hides the sky,
The smoke of his torment, black with sin;
In vain have the pangs of martyrs been,
If craft will stab, seeming fair and cool,
If truth lies crushed, and oppressors rule." Thus deep in grief I hid my aching eyes,
When at my side I heard a song arise,
From low notes, circling as the brown lark flies,
Then strong and joyful sprang up to the skies:—
"I know that my Redeemer lives, and yet,
Shall come to earth when judgment thrones are set,
Then, satisfied, like him, shall I arise,
To see the Lord I love, with mine own eyes." This was the martyr's answer to my fears,
And hearing it I dried my rebel tears;
And the white dove of peace that came that day
Far from those clouds, I keep alway. —M. E. D. G., in Golden Censer.