Poem February 1, 1913 Issue

I may not tread the paths he trod...

A. N. Whitmarsh

I may not tread the paths he trod
In famed Judea's land,
But I can walk as near to God
As those who touched his hand;
I may not climb the vine-clad hills,
Nor stand on Olives' height,
But when his truth my vision fills,
I see a grander sight!

Tho' to my gaze may be denied
The light of Orient skies,
No distance can from him divide,
If Love anoint mine eyes.
With Christ the thorniest shrub that grows
Burns with celestial flame,
And duty blooms like Sharon's rose,
For Christ dwells there "the same."

A. N. Whitmarsh.

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