I said: “Let me walk in the fields.” He said: “No, walk in the town.” I said: “There are no flowers there.” He said: “No flowers, but a crown.” I said: “But the skies are black; There is nothing but noise and din.” And He wept as He sent me back – “There is more,” He said; “there is sin.” I said: “But the air is thick, And fogs are veiling the sun.” He answered: “Yet souls are sick, and souls in the dark undone!” I said: “I shall miss the light, and friends will miss me, they say.” He answered: “Choose tonight If I am to miss you or they.” I pleaded for time to be given. He said: “Is it hard to decide? It will not seem so hard in heaven to have followed the steps of your Guide.” I cast one look at the fields, Then set my face to the town; He said, “My child, do you yield? Will you leave the flowers for the crown?” Then into His hand went mine; And into my heart came He; And I walk in a light divine, the path I had feared to see.
Made for Thyself, O God! Made for Thy love, Thy service, Thy delight; Made to show forth Thy wisdom, grace, and might; Made for Thy praise, whom veiled archangels laud; Oh strange and glorious thought, that we may be A joy to Thee! Yet the heart turns away From this grand destiny of bliss, and deems ’Twas made for its poor self, for passing dreams, Chasing illusions melting day by day; Till for ourselves we read on this world’s best, “This is not rest!” Nor can the vain toil cease, Till in the shadowy maze of life we meet One who can guide our aching, wayward feet To find Himself, our Way, our Life, our Peace. In Him the long unrest is soothed and stilled; Our hearts are filled.
Upon the sandy shore an empty shell, Beyond the shell infinity of sea; O Saviour, I am like that empty shell; Thou art the Sea to me. A sweeping wave rides up the shore, and, lo, Each dim recess the coiled shell within Is searched, is filled, is filled to overflow By water crystalline. Not to the shell is any glory then: All glory give we to the glorious sea. And not to me is any glory when Thou overflowest me. Sweep over me, Thy shell, as low I lie, I yield me to the purposes of Thy will; Sweep up, O conquering waves, and purify. And with Thy fulness fill.