Lamp   of   Truth

He held the lamp of truth that day
So low that none could miss the way;
And yet so high to bring in sight,
That picture fair-the world's great light.
That gazing up the lamp between
The hand that held it scarce was seen.

He held the pitcher, stooping low,
To lips of little ones below.
Then raised it to the weary saint,
And bade him drink when sick and faint.
They drank the pitcher thus between
The hand that held it scarce was seen.

He blew the trumpet soft and clear,
That trembling sinners need not fear.
And then with louder note, and bold
To raze the walls of Satan's hold,
The trumpet coming thus between
The hand that held it scarce was seen.

But when the Captain says, "Well done,
Thou good and faithful servant, come,"
Lay down the pitcher and the lamp,
Lay down the trumpet, leave the camp,
The weary hand will then be seen
Clasped in those pierced ones - naught between.

[ Author Unknown -- from Chaplain 777 (chaplain777@hotmail.com) ]