38
LONGING.
As on old heroic altars
Flamed the sacred fire.
Flamed the sacred fire.
Longing for the crash of battle,
When amid the weaponed din
Sturdy spirits enter freely
Glorious meed to win.
When amid the weaponed din
Sturdy spirits enter freely
Glorious meed to win.
Longing for the good beyond us,
For a glimpse of Him who waits
Throned within the shining city
And the radiant gates.
For a glimpse of Him who waits
Throned within the shining city
And the radiant gates.
Longing Is it only longing?
Are the thoughts that come and go
Still to die like summer blossoms
Under winter's snow?
Are the thoughts that come and go
Still to die like summer blossoms
Under winter's snow?
Are they only idle fancies,
Falsely fair to rise and shine,
Or, indeed, the blessed gleaming
Of a spark divine?
Falsely fair to rise and shine,
Or, indeed, the blessed gleaming
Of a spark divine?
Who shall tell us through the silence,
Though we ask with longing fond,
Till we pass and find our answers
Waiting us beyond!
Though we ask with longing fond,
Till we pass and find our answers
Waiting us beyond!
