Thursday, August 31, 2017


by Rose Terry Cook

With the first bright, slant beam,
Out of the chilling stream
Their cups of fragrant light
Golden and milky white
From folded darkness spring.
To hail their King.

Consider these, my soul!
How the blind buds unroll
Touched with one tranquil ray
Of rising day,
Into the full delight
Of lilies white.

Out of thy streaming tears,
Thy chill and darkening fears,
Oh, sleeping soul, awake!
Lo, on thy lonely lake,
Thy sun begins to shine,
Thy Light and Life divine!

Consider these, my heart!
Dreaming and cold thou art:
Swift from thyself up-spring,
Shine for thy King.
Rise in His light.
With garments white,
Forget the night:
The Lord hath arisen.

No comments:

Post a Comment