Classic Poem

THE MARRIAGE AT CANA .

Not for thyself thy motherhood,
Not for thy home that life-stream springs;
For thee then, too, the higher good
Must come through death of lower things.

The village home so sweet to thee
With joys so hallowed and complete,
For Him no Father's House could be,
No limit for thy Saviour's feet.

The will long meekly bowed to thine
Now calmly claims its sovereign place,
And takes a range of love Divine
Thy mortal vision cannot trace.

On us that mild reproof falls cold, —
The words, and not the tone, we hear;
On thee, who knewest Him of old,
It casts no shade of doubt or fear.

For thy meek heart has read Him true,
And, bowing, wins His " rather bless'd , "
" Whate'er He saith unto you, do , "
Embracing as its rule and rest.

Then through earth's ruins heaven shines bright:
The widest sphere, the dearest home,
Save that where Christ is Lord and Light,
Were but at last the spirit's tomb.

Thus, laying down thy special bliss,
Thou winnest joy, all joy above, —
The endless joy of being His,
And sharing in His works of love.