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Christ With Us

I cried aloud, "There is no Christ
In all this world unparadised!
No Christ to go to in my need—
No Christ to comfort me and feed!
He passed in glory out of sight,
The angels drew him into light;
Now in the lonesome earth and air
I cannot find him anywhere.
Would God that Heaven were not so far
And I were where the White Ones are!"

Then from the grey stones of a street
Where goes an ocean drift of feet,
I heard a child's cry tremble up,
And turned to share my scanty cup,
When lo, the Christ I thought was dead
Was in the little one I fed!
At this I drew my aching eyes
From the far-watching of the skies;
And now whichever way I turn
I see my Lord's white halo burn!

Wherever now a sorrow stands,
'Tis mine to heal His nail-torn hands;
In every lonely lane and street,
'Tis mine to wash His wounded feet—
'Tis mine to roll away the Stone
And warm His heart against my own.
Here, here on Earth I find it all—
The young archangels white and tall,
The Golden City and the doors,
And all the shining of the floors!

Edwin Markham in The Woman's Home Companion

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Edwin Markham

  • Full name: Charles Edwin Anson Markham
  • Born on April 23rd, 1852 in Oregon City, Oregon and died on March 7th, 1940
  • American poet
  • Was Poet Laureate (officially appointed to compose poems for special events and occasions) of Oregon from 1923 to 1931.
  • Most famout poem is "The Man with the Hoe".

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