Page:Poems Shipton.djvu/118

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Track His footsteps, thou shalt borrow
 Light, that loneliest life endears;
Glory gilds the crown of sorrow,
 Washed with blood, and bright with tears.
   Not unseen His loved ones mourn,
   Known to Christ is every thorn.

Dost thou murmur? dost thou wonder
 Why this path He bade thee tread?
He who reigns in glory yonder
 Had not where to lay His head.
   Though thy pathway seemeth dim,
   Yet it leads to heaven—and Him.

Sinful soul! with cords I bound Him,
 Till upon the cross He died;
With the thorny chaplet crowned Him,
 And that crown He sanctified.
   Welcome, then, the crown of shame,
   Which for me on Jesus came.

Is it meet a homeless stranger
 Rest within that world should gain,
Free from sorrow, free from danger,
 Where his Lord and King was slain?
   Christian pilgrim, be content
   With the desert and the tent.