Classic Poem

Who shall sit down at thy right hand, Lord,
Who shall sit down at Thy left,
When the thrones are set, and the saints are met,
And the clouds for judgment cleft?

Who drinks of the cup of Christ his Lord,
Who keepeth well his vow,
Baptized in the wave of His death and grave,
Bearing His cross on his brow.

The lowly of heart, who were well content
To be servants here on earth,
Not striving for sway with kings of their day,
But princes of heavenly birth.

The patient and valiant who fought the fight,
Whom all the world assail'd,
Who fear'd not the flame, nor shrank from the shame,
Nor ever wearied or fail'd.

Like him the eager of heart and hand,
The mighty of voice and word,
Who pass'd to the light of his Master's sight,
With the flash of Herod's sword.

The martyrs in mind who long time bore
Christ's passion in their heart,
Who crucified still each wayward will
And clung to the better part.

These shall be Mine, saith Christ the Lord,
On the day when crowns are shared,
But My Father alone shall give them the throne
For whom it is prepared.