A Better Resurrection

I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numbed too much for hopes or fears. Look right, look left, I dwell alone; I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief No everlasting hills I see; My life is in the falling leaf: O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf, My harvest dwindled to a husk; 10 Truly my life is void and brief And tedious in the barren dusk; My life is like a frozen thing, No bud nor greenness can I see: Yet rise it shall--the sap of Spring; O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl, A broken bowl that cannot hold One drop of water for my soul Or cordial in the searching cold 20 Cast in the fire the perished thing, Melt and remould it, till it be A royal cup for Him my King: O Jesus, drink of me.

ADVENT

This Advent moon shines cold and clear, These Advent nights are long; Our lamps have burned year after year And still their flame is strong. ‘Watchman, what of the night?’ we cry, Heart-sick with hope deferred: ‘No speaking signs are in the sky,’ Is still the watchman’s word.

The Porter watches at the gate, The servants watch within; 10 The watch is long betimes and late, The prize is slow to win. ‘Watchman, what of the night?’ But still His answer sounds the same: ‘No daybreak tops the utmost hill, Nor pale our lamps of flame.’

One to another hear them speak The patient virgins wise: ‘Surely He is not far to seek’-- ‘All night we watch and rise.’ 20 ‘The days are evil looking back, The coming days are dim; Yet count we not His promise slack, But watch and wait for Him.’

One with another, soul with soul, They kindle fire from fire: ‘Friends watch us who have touched the goal.’ ‘They urge us, come up higher.’ ‘With them shall rest our waysore feet, With them is built our home, 30 With Christ.’--‘They sweet, but He most sweet, Sweeter than honeycomb.’

There no more parting, no more pain, The distant ones brought near, The lost so long are found again, Long lost but longer dear: Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, Nor heart conceived that rest, With them our good things long deferred, With Jesus Christ our Best. 40

We weep because the night is long, We laugh for day shall rise, We sing a slow contented song And knock at Paradise. Weeping we hold Him fast, Who wept For us, we hold Him fast; And will not let Him go except He bless us first or last.

Weeping we hold Him fast to-night; We will not let Him go 50 Till daybreak smite our wearied sight And summer smite the snow: Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove Shall coo the livelong day; Then He shall say, ‘Arise, My love, My fair one, come away.’