Poems (Shipton)/Sitting at the Feet of Jesus
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SITTING AT THE FEET OF JESUS.
"One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in His temple."—Psalm xxvii. 4.
O Lord, I would not choose the way, nor place,
Nor time to serve Thee: 'tis enough to be,
To suffer, and be silent. Lo, Thy face,
While I wept here, was bent in love o'er me!
Shall I desire to serve when Thou dost teach,
And bid me listen? Better busier souls
Upbraid me, passing with the chiding speech
That many a gentler spirit oft controls,
Than I should leave Thee. Thou tender One!
In whose pure light I taste, though incomplete,
Of Thy completeness, let them "serve alone,"
So that they find me listening at Thy feet.
The sun that measures forth the glorious day
Is not more precious to the Infinite,
Than cloud that floated 'neath its beams away,
Or tiny bud that revelled in its light.
Let but the flower chalice meekly hold
Its one lone pearl the weary midnight through;
The smiles of morn at last its cup unfold,
Nor scorns the sun that little drop of dew.
Nor time to serve Thee: 'tis enough to be,
To suffer, and be silent. Lo, Thy face,
While I wept here, was bent in love o'er me!
Shall I desire to serve when Thou dost teach,
And bid me listen? Better busier souls
Upbraid me, passing with the chiding speech
That many a gentler spirit oft controls,
Than I should leave Thee. Thou tender One!
In whose pure light I taste, though incomplete,
Of Thy completeness, let them "serve alone,"
So that they find me listening at Thy feet.
The sun that measures forth the glorious day
Is not more precious to the Infinite,
Than cloud that floated 'neath its beams away,
Or tiny bud that revelled in its light.
Let but the flower chalice meekly hold
Its one lone pearl the weary midnight through;
The smiles of morn at last its cup unfold,
Nor scorns the sun that little drop of dew.