we form a little world apart,
Just He and I. I rest in Him.
And in His light all else grows dim
that once was beautiful. No art
can charm with Christ within.
When burning pains their arrows dart,
or fevered hours my pulses start,
it is not then as it hath been,
if He be here.
'My quivering soul may feel the smart
of thoughtless word, and my lone heart
drop weakly, but God's strength I win
to nerve myself; and I begin
to play in life the valiant part
of one upraised by sacred power.
Oh! Precious living is the hour,
if He be here.'
(from Fervorinos From Galilee's Hills,
by a Religious, Pelligrini, 1936, p.180)
Painting: Victor-Gabriel Gilbert, in US public domain due to age
Post a Comment