The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-03-07
st. John the Aged.

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I'm growing very old. This weary head
That hath SO often leaned on Jesus breast,
In days long past that seem almost a dream,
IS oentand hoary with its weight of years.
EIhese limbs that followed him-my Master--ott
From Galilee to Judea; yea, that stood
Beneath the cross, and trembled with His groans,
6efuse to bear me even through the streets
10 preach unto my children. Fen myllps
Refuse to form the words my heart sendsforth.
Ny ears are dull, they scarcely hear the sobs
Df my dear children gathered round my couch;
God lays His hand upon me; yea, dis hand,
Andnot his rod--the gentle hand that
Eelt, those three years, so often pressed in mine,
I'm friendship such as passeth wonaan's love.
I'm old; SO old l cannot recolect
The faces of my friends; and l forget
The words and deeds 10 make up daily lifeg
But that dear face, and every word He spoke,
Grow moro distinct as others fade away,
SO that live with Him and holy dead
Aors than with living.
Some seventy years ago
q was 8 fisher by the sacred sea.
dt was at sunset. How the tranquil tide
Bathed dreamily the pebblesi How the light
Crept up the distant hills, and in it's wake
Soft purple shadows wrapped the dewy field!
And then lie came and called me. Then / gazed.
For thodrst time, on that sweet face. Those eyes.
FROM ont of which, as from a window. shone
divinity. looked on my inmost soul.
And lighted it forever. Then His words
Broke on the silence of my heart, and made
The whole. world musical. Incarnate love
Took hold of me and claimed me for its own.
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HIS mantle.
Oh, what holy walks we had,
THROUGH harvest fields. and desolate dreary wastesl
fAnd oftentines He leaned upon my arm,
Wearied and way-worn. / was young and strong.
And so upbors INN. Lord. now am weak,
And old and feeblel Let me rest ON Theei
SO, put Thine arm around me. Closer still
How strong Thou art! The twilight draws apace.
Come, let us leave these noisy streets and take
The path TO Bethany; for Mary's smile
Awaits us ut the gate. and Martha's hands
Have long prepared the cheerful evening meal
Come, James. the Master waits; and Peter, see.
Has gone some steps before.
What say You friends9
That this is Ephesus, and Christ has gone
Back to His kingdom! Ay, It's so, lis so.
know it all; and yet. just now, !! seemed
To stand once more upon my native hills,
And touch my Master. 0, how oft I've seen
The touching of His garments bring back strength
To palsied limbs! l feel that it has come TO mine.
Upi bear me once more to my church. Once more
There lot me tell them Of tbs Sayiors love;
Eor, BIZ the sweetness OF my Masters voice
just now, L think He must be very near
Cunning, trust, to break the veil, which time
Has worn so thin that / car see beyond.
AR6 watch His footsteps.
So. raise up my head.
How dark it is! l cannot seem to see
The faces Of my flock. Is that the sea
That murInurs so. or is it weeping! Hush.
My little childrenl God so loved the world
He gave His son. So love ye one another.
Love God and man. Amen. Now bear me back.
1AI AC61Ly UNIV AL ut{slN NOiA0 10 b1fos
I feel my work is finished. Are the streets so fulll
What call the folk my name! The holy joint
Nay, write me rather, Jesus Christ's beloved,
And lover of my children.
Lay me down
Once more upon my couch, and open wide
The eastern window. See, there comes a light
like that which broke upon my soul at eve,
Whom, in the dreary isle of Patmos, Gabriel came
And touched me on the shoulder. See, it grows
AS when we mounted toward the pearly gates.
q know the way! trod it once before,
And bark! 1t is the song the ransomed sang
OF glory to the Lamb! How loud it sounds!
And that unwritten one! Methinks my soul
Can join it now. But who are those who crowd
THE shining way? Say!-joy! it's the eleven
With Peter irsti How eagerly he looks!
How bright the smiles are beaming on Jamess face!
i am the last. Once more we are complete
TO gather round the paschal feast. My place
is next to my Master. o, my Lord, my Lord
How bright Thou art. and yet the very same
flowed at dalilee. IT'S worth the hundred years
To feel this bliss! so, lift me up. dear Lord.
Unto thy bosom. There shall / abide.