The Fire of Coals by Eliza H. Morton

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park, Washington, D. C. · Sep 19, 1912

The Fire of Coals

By Eliza H. Morton

ELIZA H. MORTON

ONE stood within an open palace court Before a fire of coals; for it was cold,— And colder were the hearts of wicked men Who sought to take the Saviour's life. The light Flashed out, and she who kept the door beheld The face of one who thought to be as true As stars within their course. But ah, alas! Three times he spoke the words, the cruel words, Denying him he loved. And Jesus turned And looked, and, O that look! it pierced the soul Of Peter till it bled, and forth he went To weep.

And time passed on, and Peter stood Before another fire of coals. His mind Was backward turned. The wind sighed forth the words, "I know him not." They blazed within the flame; The ocean sadly sang them o'er and o'er. Upon his knees he fell, and buried deep His face within his hands; and Jesus touched Those hands with his own hands,—his nail-pierced hands,— And wiped away the tears; and then they ate The food prepared; and Jesus asked thrice o'er The question, "Lovest thou me?" and Peter thrice Replied, "I love thee, Lord, thou knowest well;" And thrice the Saviour gave him word to feed His flock, his precious flock.

The fire yet burns— The fire of God. 'Tis ours to heap its coals Upon the heads of all our enemies; 'Tis ours to shed afar its beams; 'tis ours To walk within its light, and ours to feed The sheep and lambs with food that sat- isfies The soul.

O fire of coals! O Spirit true! Burn thou within our hearts until the dross Is all consumed, and we are purified, And fitted for the work of God below.

Portland, Maine.