O Star above all stars! whose blessed light
Illumes the darkness of our moral night,
Still guide our wandering feet till He whose birth
Thou didst announce shall come again to earth,
And wise and simple, king and subject meet
To hear their doom before the judgment-seat,—
Till nature’s groans with human groans shall
cease,
And Earth itself, once more with Heaven at peace,
Shall put her robes of deathless beauty on,
Time be no more, and the millennium dawn!
God made me poor—am I to blame?
And shall I bow my head
As though it were some dreadful shame
I had inherited?
Shall I among the rich and great
Like trembling culprit stand,
Or like obedient servant wait
To do their least command?
And when they pass me by in scorn—
As they have often done,—
Shall I regret that I was born
An humble farmer’s son?
No! should it ever cause a sigh
This were indeed a shame;
For all unworthy then were I
To bear my father’s name.
I’ll pay to all the homage due
Whatever rank they hold;
But to my manhood ever true,
I will not bow to gold,
Came a stranger, sad and weary,
To my humble cot one day,
And he asked me for a shelter,—
Long and rough had been the way
He had traveled
On that sultry summer day.
Pain and grief had marred his beauty,
And a tear was in his eye
As he asked me for a shelter,
And then waited a reply.
Tears did gather
In mine own, I knew not why.
’Neath my humble roof I led him,
As he crossed the threshold o’er
“Peace to thee,” he softly whispered;
Peace I never knew before
Filled my bosom,
As the stranger filled my door.
Be my friend and guest forever,
In a trembling voice I said;
And he smiled and laid so gently
One dear hand upon my head;
It was bleeding,
And I knew for me it bled!
“I will be thy guest forever,”
Said the stranger unto me;
“But the cost—say, hast thou counted—
Counted what the cost will be?
Earthly pleasures,
Wilt thou leave them all for me?
“Wilt thou take my yoke upon thee?
Wilt thou humbly bear my name?
Crush the risings of ambition,
And the hopes of earthly fame?
Freely suffering,
For my sake, reproach and shame?”
Then I said, Both fame and pleasure
Willingly I can resign;
Let me only feel thy presence,
Let me know that thou art mine,
And dear Saviour,
All I have and am are thine!
