Classic Poem

Thou say'st, “Take up thy cross,
O man, and follow Me”:
The night is black, the feet are slack,
Yet we would follow Thee.

But O, dear Lord, we cry,
That we Thy face could see,
Thy blessed face one moment's space;
Then might we follow Thee.

Comes faint and far Thy voice
From vales of Galilee;
The vision fades in ancient shades;
How should we follow Thee?

Ah, sense-bound heart and blind!
Is nought but what we see?
Can time undo what once was true?
Can we not follow Thee?

If not as once Thou cam'st
In true humanity,
Come yet as guest within the breast
That burns to follow Thee.

Within our heart of hearts
In nearest nearness be:
Set up Thy throne within Thine own;
Go, Lord: we follow Thee.