Our Master

Immortal Love, forever full,     Forever flowing free,     Forever shared, forever whole,     A never-ebbing sea!     Our outward lips confess the name     All other names above;     Love only knoweth whence it came     And comprehendeth love.     Blow, winds of God, awake and blow     The mists of earth away!     Shine out, O Light Divine, and show     How wide and far we stray!     Hush every lip, close every book,     The strife of tongues forbear;     Why forward reach, or backward look,     For love that clasps like air?     We may not climb the heavenly steeps     To bring the Lord Christ down     In vain we search the lowest deeps,     For Him no depths can drown.     Nor holy bread, nor blood of grape,     The lineaments restore     Of Him we know in outward shape     And in the flesh no more.     He cometh not a king to reign;     The world's long hope is dim;     The weary centuries watch in vain     The clouds of heaven for Him.     Death comes, life goes; the asking eye     And ear are answerless;     The grave is dumb, the hollow sky     Is sad with silentness.     The letter fails, and systems fall,     And every symbol wanes;     The Spirit over-brooding all     Eternal Love remains.     And not for signs in heaven above     Or earth below they look,     Who know with John His smile of love,     With Peter His rebuke.     In joy of inward peace, or sense     Of sorrow over sin,     He is His own best evidence,     His witness is within.     No fable old, nor mythic lore,     Nor dream of bards and seers,     No dead fact stranded on the shore     Of the oblivious years;     But warm, sweet, tender, even yet     A present help is He;     And faith has still its Olivet,     And love its Galilee.     The healing of His seamless dress     Is by our beds of pain;     We touch Him in life's throng and press,     And we are whole again.     Through Him the first fond prayers are said     Our lips of childhood frame,     The last low whispers of our dead     Are burdened with His name.     Our Lord and Master of us all!     Whate'er our name or sign,     We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call,     We test our lives by Thine.     Thou judgest us; Thy purity     Doth all our lusts condemn;     The love that draws us nearer Thee     Is hot with wrath to them.     Our thoughts lie open to Thy sight;     And, naked to Thy glance,     Our secret sins are in the light     Of Thy pure countenance.     Thy healing pains, a keen distress     Thy tender light shines in;     Thy sweetness is the bitterness,     Thy grace the pang of sin.     Yet, weak and blinded though we be,     Thou dost our service own;     We bring our varying gifts to Thee,     And Thou rejectest none.     To Thee our full humanity,     Its joys and pains, belong;     The wrong of man to man on Thee     Inflicts a deeper wrong.     Who hates, hates Thee, who loves becomes     Therein to Thee allied;     All sweet accords of hearts and homes     In Thee are multiplied.     Deep strike Thy roots, O heavenly Vine,     Within our earthly sod,     Most human and yet most divine,     The flower of man and God!     O Love! O Life! Our faith and sight     Thy presence maketh one     As through transfigured clouds of white     We trace the noon-day sun.     So, to our mortal eyes subdued,     Flesh-veiled, but not concealed,     We know in Thee the fatherhood     And heart of God revealed.     We faintly hear, we dimly see,     In differing phrase we pray;     But, dim or clear, we own in Thee     The Light, the Truth, the Way!     The homage that we render Thee     Is still our Father's own;     No jealous claim or rivalry     Divides the Cross and Throne.     To do Thy will is more than praise,     As words are less than deeds,     And simple trust can find Thy ways     We miss with chart of creeds.     No pride of self Thy service hath,     No place for me and mine;     Our human strength is weakness, death     Our life, apart from Thine.     Apart from Thee all gain is loss,     All labor vainly done;     The solemn shadow of Thy Cross     Is better than the sun.     Alone, O Love ineffable!     Thy saving name is given;     To turn aside from Thee is hell,     To walk with Thee is heaven!     How vain, secure in all Thou art,     Our noisy championship     The sighing of the contrite heart     Is more than flattering lip.     Not Thine the bigot's partial plea,     Nor Thine the zealot's ban;     Thou well canst spare a love of Thee     Which ends in hate of man.     Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord,     What may Thy service be?     Nor name, nor form, nor ritual word,     But simply following Thee.     We bring no ghastly holocaust,     We pile no graven stone;     He serves thee best who loveth most     His brothers and Thy own.     Thy litanies, sweet offices     Of love and gratitude;     Thy sacramental liturgies,     The joy of doing good.     In vain shall waves of incense drift     The vaulted nave around,     In vain the minster turret lift     Its brazen weights of sound.     The heart must ring Thy Christmas bells,     Thy inward altars raise;     Its faith and hope Thy canticles,     And its obedience praise