A First Series of Hymns and Songs/Sacred Songs/The London Watercress Girl
19. The London Watercress Girl.
Before the winter's day had dawn'd,
When London streets were still,
And through the close-shut window-frame
The morning air came chill,
A barefoot child pass'd down the street,
With cresses on her head;
And as her mother paus'd to kneel,
With wond'ring look she said:
"O mother! will you tell me why.
When we pass by this way,
You fold your hands and bend the knee
As if you stopp'd to pray?
The street is soil,—except ourselves
No creature can I see;
And surely to these empty walls
You would not bend the knee?"
"These are no empty walls, my child,"
That mother made reply;
"The temple of the Lord of hosts
We now are passing by.
I cannot see him, but I know
That angels kneel and gaze
Around the altar, where for us
In patient love he stays.
Great Lord, what wondrous love was thine
To choose this poor abode!
Ah, dearest child—believe it well,—
This church contains our God."
Then child and mother bow'd again
In that cold silent street,
And went once more upon their way
With shoeless, shiv'ring feet.