Poems (Hoffman)/A Divine Codicil

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

A DIVINE CODICIL

(Isaiah 43:5-9.)

I claim that though my calling be
 A mandate high of holy writ,
There is a law that speaks to me
 To modify and govern it,
Turning the highways of my plan
 To byways that my Saviour trod;
Only in being true to man
 Can man be true to God.

Then tell me not, thy duty lies
 In paths too high for human needs;
The hungry raven when it cries,
 Its tender Heavenly Father feeds.
God calls thee from thy praise and prayer
 If in thy house one life there be
That needs thy sympathy and care,
 Thy service or thy ministry.

The Pharisee still hears his "Woe!"
 Above the dead applause of men;
Still on the road to Jericho
 Kneels crowned the poor Samaritan
And not the infidel alone
 "There is no God" in boldness saith;
The Christian who neglects his own
 Is worse, and hath denied his faith.

For truth's sake truth is blest, and yet,
 In God's account no credit's given
To him who owes the world a debt
 And pays that debt to heaven.
Where is thy brother, guilty Cain?
 Against whom only is thy fraud—
Speak, Ananias! teach again
 That sin to man is sin to God.

Meet thy high calling glad and strong;
 Let pain nor pleasure stay thy flight;
Yet through one little human wrong
 Thou shalt not lead the hosts of right.
While rainbow truths dark errors span,
 While burst sweet blossoms from the sod,
He who is truest unto man
 Is ever truest to his God.