Classic Poem

I lift my heart up in the sun
To show Thee all its song, —
A morning nest of birds for Thee
To whom the birds belong;
I lift it up, I bid it sing
Against the winds that throng.

It needs must be a little gift;
And yet, since we are free,
Earth-children with the lordly winds
That bear us company,
Right fain we are, with nought but this,
To follow after Thee.

What later offering of myrrh
It may be mine to bring,
I know not yet, I would not know, —
Pain is so gray a thing;
And sure the dying day may leave
No heart in me to sing!

I know not yet how soon, how long
It may be mine to fight;
What standard won with blood I may
Lift high before Thy sight;
I bring Thee but the sunlit sword
I may grasp, blind, to-night.

Knowing Thee Lord of gladnesses
That spring in April wise,
Who lovest all the eager things
In wood and sea and skies,
I shake the tears from off my heart,
And the rain from out mine eyes.

But never be it said of me,
I loitered by the way; —
Spent all the glad light wandering
As any sea-gull may,
And fled to Thee for shelter, late,
With the disheartened day.

Lord Christ, Lord Love, we bring to Thee
Our joy at earliest,
The joy of the unknowing day
That looks unto the west.
Now who will bear us company
Upon the morning quest?