November 18
Companions of the Way (Evening)Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these, ye did it unto Me.
COME weary-eyed from seeking in the night Thy wanderers strayed upon the pathless wold, Who wounded, dying, cry to Thee for light, And cannot find their fold.
And deign, O Watcher with the sleepless brow, Pathetic in its yearning—deign reply: Is there, O is there aught that such as Thou Wouldst take from such as I?
Are there no briars across Thy pathway thrust? Are there no thorns that compass it about? Nor any stones that Thou wilt deign to trust My hands to gather out?
O, if Thou wilt, and if such bliss might be, It were a cure for doubt, regret, delay— Let my lost pathway go—what aileth me?— There is a better way.
JEAN INGELOW
THE LOVE THAT CALLS US