XIX.
I HAVE SOMEWHAT TO SAY TO THEE.
--_Luke_ vii. 40.
A word to me? a word for me apart No other ear to hearken--heart to heart? A word Thy hidden pleasure to impart? O Master, say it!
Is it a word of love, entreating mine-- Poor recompense indeed for love divine, Yet precious to that human Heart of Thine? Dear Master, say it!
A word of blame? Lord, I deserve it--nay, No word of Thine can I deserve--yet may I know what chiding love would have Thee say? O Master, say it!
A word to cast aside my craven fears, And bravely bear the cross these many years Dragged after Thee with protest and with tears? O Master, say it!
Perchance a dreaded word, not once or twice, But often suing for a gift of price; Can I invite that call to sacrifice? Yes, Master, say it!
A word from Thee the rightful course will trace, A word from Thee the shrinking spirit brace, A word from Thee bestow all needful grace, O Master, say it!
No word of Thine but gives before it takes, And taking, generous compensation makes, And effort asking, energy awakes, O Master, say it!
A warning maybe--frighted love’s disguise, How stern soe’er in seeming, kindly wise, Unveiling danger to unwary eyes? O Master, say it!
Thy voice is ever music to mine ear, Silence alone o’erwhelms my soul with fear Say all, say freely what I crave to hear, O Master, say it!
One tender word to Thomas brought belief, One pitying word, a kingdom to a thief, One only word would bring my soul relief, O Master, say it!
New shape would aims, desires, affections take, New power of sacrifice within me wake, New need of toil and suffering for Thy sake, O Master, say it!
One word, I know, Thou hast for me--a word In the still hours of prayer how often heard, Not long, perchance, its welcome sound deferred, O Master, say it!
Word life’s incessant prayer must wrest from Thee; Word holding my eternal destiny, Word I must hear or perish utterly, O Master, say it!
When past my little day of time and grace, Lone in another world I seek my place, And trembling fall before Thy unveiled Face, Dear Master, say it!
_Come!_--blest recall from exile’s weary years, Rest from the awful strife ’twixt hopes and fears, Sweet word of welcome after toil and tears, O Master, say it!
Though silent now, keep Thou that word in store, The word to make me Thine for evermore; By all Thy loving-kindness, I implore, Dear Master, say it!