Poems (Rice)/Mary of Bethany
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MARY OF BETHANY.
"She hath done what she could."
SHE came alone, that noble one, nor thought what might betide,
Alone she stood, how beautiful, there by her Saviour's side;
She trusts her faith is strong in Him—His form I may not dare
To speak in tones, to paint in words, a picture half as fir:
Yet I, alas! my pen may take to utter or reveal,
Emotions such as move my heart, such as to-day I feel;
The scene surpasses human skill, that I a sketch might make
Of her who brought and gave her all, her all for Jesus' sake!
Alone she stood, how beautiful, there by her Saviour's side;
She trusts her faith is strong in Him—His form I may not dare
To speak in tones, to paint in words, a picture half as fir:
Yet I, alas! my pen may take to utter or reveal,
Emotions such as move my heart, such as to-day I feel;
The scene surpasses human skill, that I a sketch might make
Of her who brought and gave her all, her all for Jesus' sake!
In Bethany, fair Bethany, where lovely streamlets wind,
With His disciples at the board the Saviour there reclined,
In Simeon's house, upon a couch, when Mary to him came;
This deed of kindness won for her a never-dying fame;
Her piety and zeal He blest, she brought Him all her store,
'Tis held in sweet remembrance still on every Christian shore;
That we such rapture might possess, her nature might partake,
To do our best, to give our all, our all for Jesus' sake!
With His disciples at the board the Saviour there reclined,
In Simeon's house, upon a couch, when Mary to him came;
This deed of kindness won for her a never-dying fame;
Her piety and zeal He blest, she brought Him all her store,
'Tis held in sweet remembrance still on every Christian shore;
That we such rapture might possess, her nature might partake,
To do our best, to give our all, our all for Jesus' sake!
With power divine her soul was touched, straightway was she impelled
To act—tell me if love like this was ever yet excelled?
Her brow all radiant with joy, a marked and earnest face,
How beautiful, how beautiful her form of perfect grace!
She bowed in sweet humility, devotion tender, true—
How lovely grows the picture now as I the theme pursue;
Her heavenly, pure, holy love compelled her to forsake
Her ways, to go and bring her all, her all for Jesus' sake.
To act—tell me if love like this was ever yet excelled?
Her brow all radiant with joy, a marked and earnest face,
How beautiful, how beautiful her form of perfect grace!
She bowed in sweet humility, devotion tender, true—
How lovely grows the picture now as I the theme pursue;
Her heavenly, pure, holy love compelled her to forsake
Her ways, to go and bring her all, her all for Jesus' sake.
She sought her treasure—aye, her last, her last and only one,
For how could she refuse to give when He her heart had won?
The precious ointment, see it flow upon her Saviour's head,
As they indignantly do frown, but nought has she to dread:
"Wherefore this waste?" they all exclaim, "'tis far too costly, rare;"
Yet is he, unheeding their rebukes, bows like an angel there;
The box of alabaster sweet, with pure affection, brake,
And meekly lavished there her all, her all for Jesus' sake.
For how could she refuse to give when He her heart had won?
The precious ointment, see it flow upon her Saviour's head,
As they indignantly do frown, but nought has she to dread:
"Wherefore this waste?" they all exclaim, "'tis far too costly, rare;"
Yet is he, unheeding their rebukes, bows like an angel there;
The box of alabaster sweet, with pure affection, brake,
And meekly lavished there her all, her all for Jesus' sake.
"To what great purpose is this waste?" with wonder and with scorn
Did they rebuke this sacrifice, yet she in love kept on;
The world had no attraction now, she steadfast homage paid,
His overpowering influence she joyfully obeyed;
This influence would that I could feel, this influence divine,
Would that my stubborn heart, to-day, might all to Him resign,
That a memorial the poor, of me some time might might make,
And say, "She nobly gave her all, her all for Jesus' sake."
Did they rebuke this sacrifice, yet she in love kept on;
The world had no attraction now, she steadfast homage paid,
His overpowering influence she joyfully obeyed;
This influence would that I could feel, this influence divine,
Would that my stubborn heart, to-day, might all to Him resign,
That a memorial the poor, of me some time might might make,
And say, "She nobly gave her all, her all for Jesus' sake."