Poems (Shipton)/The Two Shadows
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THE TWO SHADOWS.
"The Lord God prepared a gourd, and made it to come up over Jonah, that it might be a shadow over his head, to deliver him from his grief. . . . But God prepared a worm when the morning rose the next day, and it smote the gourd that it withered."—Jonah iv. 6, 7.
"A Man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land."—Isaiah xxxii. 2.
"I sat down under His shadow with great delight, and His fruit was sweet to my taste."—Sol. Song li. 3.
Lord, hide me in Thy shadow
From the east wind's withering blast,
In the secret of Thy presence,
Till the fervid noon be past.
A worm destroyed the shelter
Of the gourd Thou gavest me;
My heart is sick and drooping,
And the sun beats piteously.
From the east wind's withering blast,
In the secret of Thy presence,
Till the fervid noon be past.
A worm destroyed the shelter
Of the gourd Thou gavest me;
My heart is sick and drooping,
And the sun beats piteously.
Take me, oh, take me to Thee,
Thou Comforter divine!
My fevered hands—quick! clasp them
In that pierced palm of Thine.
My drooping head, Lord, shelter
Upon Thy loving breast;
Thy presence must go with me—
Wilt Thou not give me rest?
Thou Comforter divine!
My fevered hands—quick! clasp them
In that pierced palm of Thine.
My drooping head, Lord, shelter
Upon Thy loving breast;
Thy presence must go with me—
Wilt Thou not give me rest?
I sat me in the desert
That dreary day alone,
Counting life's cherished promise
Of bud and beauty gone.
In my spirit's deep recesses
A still small voice I heard—
"Better for thee, beloved,
The withering of thy gourd.
That dreary day alone,
Counting life's cherished promise
Of bud and beauty gone.
In my spirit's deep recesses
A still small voice I heard—
"Better for thee, beloved,
The withering of thy gourd.
"My hand in love bestowed it,
To cheer thy desert way;
I will not let My blessing
Thy trusting heart betray.
Behold, the bower I build thee
No east wind e'er can blight;
My wings shall be thy shadow;
My love thy soul's delight.
To cheer thy desert way;
I will not let My blessing
Thy trusting heart betray.
Behold, the bower I build thee
No east wind e'er can blight;
My wings shall be thy shadow;
My love thy soul's delight.
"It was My hand, beloved one,
That trained thy sheltering gourd;
The sun scorched at My bidding,
The wind obeyed My word.
'Twas I prepared in secret
The worm thou couldst not see,
To bear thy Master's message
In tenderness to thee.
That trained thy sheltering gourd;
The sun scorched at My bidding,
The wind obeyed My word.
'Twas I prepared in secret
The worm thou couldst not see,
To bear thy Master's message
In tenderness to thee.
"Peace, peace! I know thy sorrows,
Thy faithfulness I prove;
My hand hath weighed thy losses
In the balance of my love.
Cast down, but not forsaken,
Despair not, though distrest:
My presence hath been with thee,
And I will give thee rest.
Thy faithfulness I prove;
My hand hath weighed thy losses
In the balance of my love.
Cast down, but not forsaken,
Despair not, though distrest:
My presence hath been with thee,
And I will give thee rest.
"Behold a Plant whose beauty
No scorching breath hath fanned!
A great Bock casts its shadow
In this dry and thirsty land:
The Rock endures for ever
The shock of storm and wave;
And the Branch of thy green bower
Pose from a garden grave."
No scorching breath hath fanned!
A great Bock casts its shadow
In this dry and thirsty land:
The Rock endures for ever
The shock of storm and wave;
And the Branch of thy green bower
Pose from a garden grave."
Ear could not hear the answer
To my low smothered moan;
Eye hath not seen the rapture
Beheld by One alone.
A shadow, in that noontide,
Deeper and deeper grew;
Like healing balm the whisper
Fell on my heart like dew.
To my low smothered moan;
Eye hath not seen the rapture
Beheld by One alone.
A shadow, in that noontide,
Deeper and deeper grew;
Like healing balm the whisper
Fell on my heart like dew.
Oh, peace! oh, joy eternal!
Oh, Love divine and true!
Oh, bloom and fruit immortal
That Paradise ne'er knew!
Dearer the dreariest desert
Than all earth's joys restored,
For brighter is Thy presence
By the withering of my gourd.
Oh, Love divine and true!
Oh, bloom and fruit immortal
That Paradise ne'er knew!
Dearer the dreariest desert
Than all earth's joys restored,
For brighter is Thy presence
By the withering of my gourd.