I love to hear how Mary sat at the Redeemer's feet,--
I wish I could have been there too, I would have shared her seat;
I envy much the little group that met at Martha's board
To listen to the gentle voice of him whom they adored.
I envy those rude fishermen who rowed him o'er the sea,
Who walked with him and talked with him as I now talk to thee;
I envy those who brought their sick, just at the close of day,
That they might be restored to health when Jesus passed that way.
Had I been living then I know I would have joined the crowd--
"Have mercy, oh have mercy, Lord!" I would have cried aloud.
Thou sayest that I still may go and tell him all my grief,
And go I will; "Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief."
I know my heart is very hard, I feel the load within;
But in the blood of Jesus Christ I wash away my sin;
I lay my burden at his feet while to his cross I cling;
I do so long to hear him speak death seems a blessed thing.
Now kneel here close beside me and lift thy voice in prayer
That I may say his will be done whatever I may bear,
Oh, I should love to _work_ for him, if that could be his will,
But pray that I may be resigned--may suffer and be still.
COMPLETE IN HIM.
Does not the blood of Jesus alone cleanse from _all_ sin?-who but
sinners are invited to the great Fountain? Are my robes filthy?--where
can they be made white but in the blood of the Lamb? Is my heart
obdurate and unbelieving?--who can soften and subdue it save the
Almighty One who listens to its throbbings and knows all its trouble?
Am I tempted, sorely tempted?--who can pity like Him who in the
wilderness met face to face the great enemy, the great tempter of
mankind? Ah, my poor heart aches when I think of all that is in the
past and of all the future may have in store for me.
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