By ANNA H. DRURY.
“Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest
awhile.”—MARK vi: 31.
Come ye apart, and rest awhile
From all your hope, from all your fear:
The sunny fields where harvests smile,
The thankless soil, the blighted ear—
Leave all behind, and rest with Me
One hour in still Gethsemane!
Come ye apart, and find repose
In this the garden of My pain;
Drink of the cup I share with those
Who lose for Me, and find it gain.
I from an angel comfort drew,
But I myself will comfort _you_!
Come ye apart, and taste the calm
My love can shed beneath the rod.
Rest on the everlasting Arm—
Be still, and know that I am God!
Accept your Heavenly Father’s Will,
As I accepted—and was still.
Come ye, as Moses came of old,
While humbled Israel mourned below,
And wrestled for his guilty fold,
With pangs that only shepherds know;
And won them back the forfeit grace!
Sealed with My glory on his face!
Come ye, as erst Elijah came,
Through forty days of mystic fast;
And through the earthquake, storm, and flame,
Thrilled to the still small voice at last;
And learned, when every hope looked dim,
That unknown thousands prayed with him!
Come, rest with Me on that stern bed
Whose tortures were endured for you;
Till faith and patience perfected,
There, where I triumphed, triumph too.
Who share the Paschal nail and thorn,
Shall know the joy of Easter morn!