Marion Lightbourn diary

And that smile, like sunshine dart Into many a sunless heart, For a smile of God thou art.

From Coplas de Manrique, O Death, no more no more delay; My spirit longs to flee away, And be at rest; The will of heaven, my will shall be I bow to the divine decree, To God's behest.

My will is ready to depart, My thought rebels, the obedient ^heart Breathes forth no sigh; The wish on earth to linger still Were vain, when 'tis God's sovereign will That we shall die

O Thou, that for our sins didst take A human form, and humbly make Thy home on earth, Thou, that to thy divinity A human nature didst ally By mortal birth.

And in that form didst suffer ^{x here} Torment, and agony, and fear, So patiently; By thy redeeming grace alone, And not for merits of my own, O, pardon me!

The Soul Dirge The organ played sweet music While as on Easter Day, All heartless from the Altar, The heedless went away: And down the broad aisles crowd ^{x ing} They seemed a funeral train, That were burying their spirits To the music of that strain.

As I listened to the organ, And saw them crowd along, I thought I heard two voices, speaking strangely but not strong; And one, it whispered sadly, Will ye also go away? But the other spoke exulting Ha! the soul dirge_ hear it pray!"

Hear the soul-dirge! hear the ^{x soul-dirge} And see the feast Divine: Ha! the jewels of salvation, And the trampling feet of swine Hear the soul-dirge! hear the soul-^dirge Little think they as they go What priceless pearls they tread on, Who spurn their Savior so!

Hear the soul dirge - hear the ^soul-dirge It was dread to hear it play, While the famishing went crowding From the Bread of Life away: They were bidden, they were ridden To their Father's festal board; But they all with gleeful faces, Turned their back upon the Lord.

You had thought the church a prison Had you seen how they did pour, With giddy, giddy faces, From the consecrated door, There was angel's food all ready, But the bidden - where were they? Oer the highways and the hedges Ere the soul-dirge ceased to play.

Oh! The soul-dirge, how it echoed The emptied aisles along, As the open street grew crowded With the full outpouring throng! And then - again the voices; Ha! the soul-dirge! hear it play, And the pensive, pensive whisper Will ye also go away?