Love's Ministry

MARY J. ELMENDORF.

The hand of Love supernal rolls the heavy stone away
That marked my sepulchre and, leading forth into the day,
Bares to the sabres of His sun my shadowy bonds of clay.

Love's blessing is as sweet as meadow-fragrance after rain;
Love's voice is harmony; golden His touch, surcease to pain,
His Presence o'er me streams as moonlight o'er the quiet plain.

Calm as the Morning Star, above the seething mists of sin,
Love's high watch-tower stands; through toil, its mighty view I win.
And lo! my burdens fade, and exaltation mounts within.

Love makes my swift feet chamois-firm to tread His paths along;
Love gives mine eyes the eagle's vision. unafraid and strong;
Love takes the tears from out my heart, and breathes therein a song.

Love bids me glance not downward toward the wasted of slavery,
But upward where refreshing waters promise ecstasy,—
The heights whence lie unrolled green vistas of Eternity.

Love onward—homeward!—calls, where I shall earn my rightful place
Amid the lilies white of everlasting peace and grace,
And find the Saviour waiting with the sunrise in his face;

The sunrise of that Resurrection Morning when, before
The might of Truth, death's potency was lost forevermore,
And Love resplendent stood revealed,—Immortal Conqueror!

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