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TOPIC: Gordon, Samuel Dickey - Quiet Talks on Home Ideals (Other Topics in this Collection)
SUBJECT: 52. Chapter 6: The Babe
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Chapter 6: The Babe
A Fresh Act Of God
"Mother of Sorrows, I—
But my Babe is on my breast;
He resteth quiet there
Who bringeth the weary rest;
He lieth calm and still,
Who bringeth the troubled peace,
Who openeth prison doors
And giveth the sad release;
For there reacheth Him yet no sound,
No echo of cry or moan;
To-day, little Son, little Son,
To-day Thou art all my own.
Mother of Sorrows, I—
And the sword shall pierce my heart;
But to-day I hold Him close
From the cruel world apart.
It waits with smiting and gibes.
With scourging and hatred and scorn,
With hyssop and wormwood and gall.
The cross and the crown of thorn;
The nations shall watch Him die;
Lifted upon the tree;
But to-day, little Son, little Son,
To-day Thou art safe with me."
Annie Johnson Flint.