Untitled Page 5

Dying

I swing in the Christ-held hammock of prayer
Fastened above the eternal stars;
Each shining mesh, so firm and fair
Hung on the promises glittering bars.

The sweetness of Heaven and earth combine
In glorifying this bed of mine
Hearts loving and saintly have twisted each corner
And fastened the ends with the gems of His { ?}.

And the loving Jesus, pure and sweet
Has gathered the strands that were laid at his feet,
And bears up my hammock of prayer.

So I, quiet lie
Neath the kind Fathers eye,
Biding my hour to be called on high
From my Christ-hung hammock of prayer.