Stephen the Sabaite; J M. N., Tr
ART thou weary, art thou languid,
Art thou sore distrest?
“Come to Me”, saith One, “and coming,
Be at rest.”
2
Hath He marks to lead me to Him
If He be my guide?
In His feet and hands are woundprints,
And His side.
3
Is there diadem, as monarch,
That His brow adorns?
Yea, a crown, in very surety,
But of thorns.
4
If I find Him, if I follow,
What His guerdon here?
Many a sorrow, many a labour,
Many a tear.
5
If I still hold closely to Him,
What hath He at last?
Sorrow vanquished, labour ended,
Jordan past.
6
If I ask Him to receive me,
Will He say me nay?
Not till earth, and not till heaven
Pass away.
7
Finding, following, keeping, struggling,
Is He sure to bless?
Saints, apostles, prophets, martyrs,
Answer, “Yes!”