To Thee I bring, dear Savior,

An offering tonight,

And pray it may find favor

By Thy grace in Thy sight;

No show of noble powers—

Such grandeur small souls lack—

A humble bunch of flowers,

A mix of white and black.

White blooms, star-shaped, sweet-smelling,

Their stalks all smooth and green,

Their snowy glow is telling

Of triumph’s happy sheen;

All this day’s little glories,

Sweet joy and bright success,

I offer Thee these stories,

With hymn of thankfulness.

The black blooms, shaped like crosses,

Less sweet and sharp with thorns,

These are the stings and losses

For which man’s nature mourns;

Pain, disappointment, folly,

The times when foes prevailed,

The springless melancholy,

The times I tried and failed.

I bring Thee these small prizes;

Thou only know’st the worth

Of any gift that rises

From human hands on earth;

So I pray that Thy splendor

May wash these in its rays,

Their fragrance of surrender

Rise pleasing to Thy praise.

And I’ll thank Thee, my Dearest,

For this day’s white and black;

Faith’s eye sees Thy love clearest;

My small heart gives love back.

For everything is beauty

When seen with love of Thee,

And e’en the humblest duty

Is joyous then, and free.

Heavy veils of grey yield to wind,

Parting to reveal still-shining blue,

Shedding soft shreds, whiter now and thinned,

Gladsome white-gold sunshine beaming through.

All the ruts and ditches that here lie,

They are mirrors now of water-glass,

Wherein fragments of the glowing sky

Gleam up from among the stones and grass.

Branches netted roughly, tattered bars,

Drab grey webs all drizzle-wet and grim,

Glisten now with countless bits of stars,

Silver-bright, as if with Christmas trim.

Every leaf and flower-head weighed down,

Battered with the rushing of the rain,

Now stands splendid in its diamond crown,

And is swift forgetting all its strain.

All the earth is baptized, washed anew,

And stands radiant before the sun,

All the gloom and tempest that it knew

Now become such glory as to stun.

So for nature, so also for me,

When that which oppressed and struck me low,

As the light returned, changed wondrously,

New marvels of grace and joy to show.

Let it come then, Lord, the bitter rain,

Though it drench and pound upon my soul;

Only, send Your light, and make my pain

Something shining, my fractures Your whole.

Raise a glad song, favored maiden;

Sing out sweetly, turtle-dove,

By your King with treasures laden,

Called by Him to be His love!

Truer bridegroom was there never,

Nor more generous a lord;

All that’s His is yours forever,

Sealed with His eternal Word!

Lo, He sets His mark upon you,

Claims you for His own dear bride;

With His holy Blood He won you,

For your love He fought and died!

Now fair robes as bright as morning

He brings for your wedding gown,

Rarest jewels for your adorning,

And a shining royal crown.

But before the feast in splendor,

When your joy will be complete,

Bride of Christ, you must surrender

To what seems a dark defeat,

To the night of bloody sweating,

To the vicious world’s abuse,

To the hour, of God’s own setting,

When your very self you lose!

From earth’s world of dim phantasm

To your Spouse’s radiant realm,

One road only spans the chasm;

Let it not your heart o’erwhelm.

He sees your tears, drawn by fire,

By each wound and valiant loss,

Diamond stairs to lead you higher

By the King’s road of the Cross.

If a maid follows her lover,

Join yours on His mystic way,

Road He traveled to recover

Precious souls that dying lay.

Join His great task of redeeming

Each lamb wand’ring from His fold;

Your blood mixed with His and streaming

Sows their new life manifold.

Think on Whom it is you marry,

King of Kings and Friend most dear,

Who scorns not weak lambs to carry—

Let His love cast out your fear!

He’s worthy of all your treasure,

And you’ll find, dear bride of Christ,

He returns bounteous measure

For all that you’ve sacrificed!

Break your jar, your ointment flowing,

Pour it and count not its worth,

For the joy that passes knowing

And the love past scope of earth!

Take your cross, moved by Love’s fires,

Learn its deep, mysterious charms,

Find your heart full past desires,

Find you’ve risen—in His arms!

The sun beats down upon this bench;

The boards resound with thumping feet;

The passing breeze picks up the stench

Of tobacco and roasting meat.

To left and right a world spreads out

Of blaring music, flashing signs;

The cream-streaked people peer about

Through glasses dark for cheapest finds.

An eastern wind comes from behind,

A crisp and cool breath from the sea;

Its sharp, clean fragrance wafts to mind

A world of grace and mystery,

A quiet world, breakers and breeze

Singing their wild, blissful hymn,

Earth’s edge fading in glimm’ring seas,

Free blue-green depths where finned things swim.

My heart leaps up to hasten there,

Leaving behind this boardwalk scene,

For all its splendid flash and glare

Pales by this majesty serene.

I’ve brought no purse nor souvenir,

Nothing that I need fear to leave.

My shoes I gladly set down here,

Forsake the scene, and never grieve.

For though its sweet delights I reap,

My hungry heart finds them too small;

The sea’s glory is strong and deep,

And fades not nor changes at all.

So may I gladly quit this earth,

Not weighted by things on the way,

And freely seek my second birth,

The joys deeper than man can say.

Though pleasures here be bright and sweet,

Still my heart strains up from the sod;

Into the depths shall fly my feet,

The changeless, beauteous depths of God!