Poems (Hale)/"Come up hither"

by Mary Whitwell Hale

"COME UP HITHER."

  Come to the holy feast,
  The table of our Lord.
Ye of the gathering band the least,
  List to the gracious word.
A contrite spirit with you bring;
God will not spurn your offering.

  Pour ye the fervent prayer,
  As at his feet ye bend.
Will not the Saviour meet you there?
  His guiding spirit lend?
While, with affections pure and meek,
Ye shall the promised blessing seek.

  Here every vain desire
  May love's deep fervor quell:
Here may devotion's sacred fire
  Each heart to rapture swell.
Grant that each bending form may be
A shrine, Eternal One! for thee.

  Here may each heart be given,
  While prayer and praise arise,
To God, to Jesus, and to heaven,—
  A living sacrifice.
And as our souls in homage kneel,
Let each his covenant vows reseal.

  To own his honored name,
  The Life, the Truth, the Way,
Who to redeem our spirits came,
  And lead to cloudless day;—
Here in this simple, holy rite,
His last request, our hearts unite.

  O! may the path he trod
  Be by our footsteps pressed;
His Father ours, and ours his God,
  Our hope his heavenly rest.
Them who on earth his name confess,
He waits in heaven to crown and bless.