In the Morning by Willis Boyd Allen - HTML preview

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BLIND.

 

Throughout the weary day an Eastern sun

Had poured his beams upon the whitened walls

Of Jericho, till e’en the drooping palms

Refused to comfort with their wonted shade

The passer-by. As in a furnace blast—

The glaring pavement spread beneath, o’erhead

A brazen, cloudless sky—all living things

Had gasped, with parching lips, and feebly prayed

For night.

’Twas eventide; the northern hills

Breathed forth a blessing on the multitude

That thronged incessant through the city gates.

 

Softly the mist crept forth, and o’er their heads

Her dewy wings unfolded. In the west

The molten brass of noontide turned to gold,

And shone like some fair missal’s page, with hymns

And promises illumined.

One there was

Among the restless souls beneath its glow,

For whom the heavenly message was not writ;

For whom no sunset gleamed, nor morning dawned.

Oft had he listened to the merry shout

And laughter of the children at their sports,

But ne’er had looked upon their sparkling eyes.

Alone, he walked in darkness through a life

Of nights, with never hope of day. But hark!

Upon his ear there falls a gentle voice,

Whose tones of strange and heavenly sweetness thrill

His very heart. “’Tis Jesus, ’tis the Christ

Of Nazareth!” The woes of heavy years,

 

The quick-born hope, the old-time, dull despair,

The agony of help so near at hand,

Yet passing, blend in one wild, bitter cry:

“Jesus, thou Son of David, I am blind!

Have mercy on me!”—and the Saviour hears.

Blind Bartimeus by the road-side waits

In anguish mute and trembling, when, O joy!

The bringer of glad tidings is at hand:

“Be of good comfort, rise, he calleth thee!”

O weary, heavy-laden one, whose eyes

Have long been sightless to behold the truth,—

Perchance in darkness walking even now,

And longing with an aching heart for light,—

The Master’s message echoes sweetly still:

“Be of good comfort, rise, He calleth thee.”

And humbly kneeling at His feet, the words

Of healing, spoken in the olden time

To him who prayed for help, thou too shalt hear:

“Receive thy sight, thy faith hath made thee

Whole.”