Volume 9 — Waiting.
Reading edition
Flame, rosy tapers, flame! Though flushing day Is mounting into heaven, it cannot shame The weakest rush-light burning in his name Who soon will say, "Peace to this house!" Consoling word, Which patient ones have heard, Then meekly sighed, "Now let thy servant, Lord, depart in peace!" And, granted swift release, Next moment died. Flame, rosy tapers, flame! No garish day can shame Your ruddy wax a-light in Jesus' name! Close, giddy honeysuckles, clambering free, Close your moist petals to the wandering bee. That with your cloistered dews you may adore My Lord, when he shall enter at the door. O blossoming sweet-brier! Now flushing like a seraph with desire To do him homage, send abroad Your aromatic breath, and thus entice, With innocent device, His quickening steps unto my poor abode. Calm lilies for his tabernacle sealed, O spicy hyacinths! now yield Your odors to the waiting air His welcome to prepare; Nor fear that by my haste Your perfumes you will waste; For each expectant sigh Is dearer, to the Holy One so nigh, Than all your honeyed nectaries exhale. Young rose and lilac pale, And every flow'ret fair, Incense the blissful air, And bid him, hail! Flame, rosy tapers, flame! No garish day can shame Your ruddy wax a-light in Jesus' name! Sing, lark and linnet, sing The graces of this King, Who, in such meek array, Will visit me to-day: Young swallows, twittering at my cottage eaves, Shy wrens, close-nested in the woodbine leaves, Blithe robins, chirping on the open gate, Upon his coming wait: Glad oriole, swinging with the linden bough, I do entreat you, now With gushing throat Repeat your most ecstatic note. Afar I hear, With instinct quick and clear, His step who bears, enshrined upon his breast, The God who soon within my own will rest. Angelic choirs Are touching their exultant lyres: Sing, lark and linnet, sing, And with your artless jubilations bring Their joy to earth; and you, melodious thrush, While my glad soul keeps hush, Attune your song My silent rapture to prolong. Flame, rosy tapers, flame! No garish day can shame Your ruddy wax a-light in Jesus' name!