Classic Poem

Led by a hand invisible,
I come at length to view the place
Where Jesus broke the power of hell,
And gave the tortured child release.

And can it be my wearied feet
Press the same earth that Jesus trod?
O, happy hour, O, bliss complete,
O, promises fulfilled of God!

These mountains looked on Christ that day;
This fountain murmured in His ear;
The sky serene, the glassy bay,
The charming flowerets all were here.

How looked the Saviour? O, to see
His face divine! Was it in grief
At human pain, and misery,
And want, and sin, and unbelief?

Beneath this tamarisk tree I muse;
Grant me to drink the spirit in
Of that great hour, nor let me lose
One feature of the wondrous scene.

The mother clamorous with her plea,
The apostle's cold, impatient word,
Faith's trial and sure victory,
And O, the utterance of the Lord!

Cease, murmuring fountain, cease thy flow,
And let His utterance reach my soul:
" Great is thy faith, O, woman, go!
Already is the child made whole! "

The chain of evil power released,
The demon's fetters broke at last;
The very crumbs of Jesus' feast
Better than all the world's repast.

No longer to restrain my tears,
Such gratitude these drops recount;
'Tis surely worth my fifty years,
This noontide at Sarepta's fount!

Sing, murmuring waters, lulling streams;
Roar, foamy breakers, on the shore;
Broken Sarepta's fleeting dreams,
The vision will return no more.

Far o'er the western sea my heart
Wanders from lone Sarepta's shrine;
I rise, and on my way depart,
Never to view these scenes again.

But I shall meet Him! yes, I know,
My inmost being this assures,
Where founts celestial smoothly flow,
And perfect blessedness allures.

Onward and onward moments fly,
My sands of life make haste to run;
Lord, grant me favor ere I die,
To leave no appointed task undone!