O how the thought of God attracts,
And draws the heart from earth,
And sickens it of passing shows
And dissipating mirth!
'Tis not enough to save our souls,
To shun the eternal fires;
The thought of God will rouse the heart
To more sublime desires.
God only is the creature's home,
Though rough and strait the road;
Yet nothing less can satisfy
The love that longs for God.
Oh, utter but the name of God
Down in your heart of hearts,
And see how from the world at once
All tempting light departs.
A trusting heart, a yearning eye
Can win their way above;
If mountains can be moved by faith
Is there less power in love?
How little of that road, my soul,
How little hast thou gone!
Take heart, and let the thought of God
Allure thee further on.
Dole not thy duties out to God,
But let thy hand be free;
Look long at Jesus; his sweet blood--
How was it dealt to thee?
The perfect way is hard to flesh;
It is not hard to love;
If thou wert sick for want of God
How swiftly wouldst thou move.
Be docile to thine unseen Guide;
Love him as he loves thee;
Time and obedience are enough,
And thou a saint shalt be.
--Frederick William Faber.
Thou broadenest out with every year
Each breadth of life to meet;
I scarce can think thou art the same,
Thou art so much more sweet.
With gentle swiftness lead me on,
Dear God, to see thy face;
And meanwhile in my narrow heart
O make thyself more space!
--Frederick William Faber.