Poem June 27, 1901 Issue

Poem

[Translated from a German book written more than two hundred years ago.]

God's spirit falls on me
As dew drops on a rose,
If I but, like a rose,
My heart to Him unclose.

The soul wherein God dwells—
What church can holier be?—
Becomes a walking tent
Of heavenly majesty.

Lo! in the silent night
A child to God is born,
And all is brought again
That e'er was lost or lorn.

Could but thy soul,
O man, Become a silent night,
God would be born in thee,
And set all things aright.

In all eternity no tone
Can be so sweet
As where man's heart with God
In unison doth beat.

Whate'er thou lovest, man,
That, too, become thou must;
God, if thou lovest God,
Dust, if thou lovest dust.

Ah! would the heart be but
A manger for the birth,
God would then once more
Become a child of earth.

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit