BELOVED
O my dove, that art in the clefts of the
rock,
In the secret places of the stairs, let me
see thy countenance.
-Cant. ii:14.
Safely hi in the rock’s deep
cleft,
I
sing as the hours pass by;
Sweet is the shelter, and cool
and strong,
And
I look at the cloudless sky;
Fair is the world in its opal
hues,
And
smooth is the sparkling sea,
And every leaf on the forest
trees
Has
a message of love to me.
I hear a whisper! The songs are
loud
Which
the singers sing all day;
But I hush my breath, for I long
the most
To
hear what the whispers say-
Sweet are the voices of those
who sing,
But
it is the “still, small voice”
That thrills me through with its
lightest word,
Making
my soul rejoice.
“Let Me see thee!” Oh, strange
it seems
That
He says such words to me;
Scarcely are angels fair enough
For
the Holiest eyes to see.
How can He care for a sin-soiled
face,
For
eyes that are dimmed with tears,
For a world-worn brow that is
furrowed o’er
With
the ploughings of the years.
Ah, well He knows me, but
knowing all,
Still
great are His love and grace,
And a tender pleading is in His
voice
When
he asks to see my face.
Love covers a multitude of
faults,
Does
it matter how small I be?
Since He loves me so well that
long ago
He
gave His life for me!
So I answer back from the rock’s
recess-
I
will hide me away no more,
I will dare to look in Thine
eyes of love,
I
will let myself adore.
I will venture to open my heart
to Thee,
O
Thou, who my soul hast moved;
Happy, indeed, in this world are
they
Whom
Thou ownest as Thy beloved.
-Selected.
