Love's Garden of Rest
From this sad world with its vain passing show
I turn in weariness and pain aside,
Into a garden where fair flowers grow
In silent peace, free from war's surging tide.
And in the garden fair—a temple shrine
With open portal bidding me go in,
Upon an altar Love’s emblems divine,
With worshippers all ready to begin.
My mind is filled with thoughts of Love sublime
As kneeling I my present Lord adore:
Forgotten are the fleeting ills of time,
I seem to rest on Heaven’s eternal shore.
My open hands outstretched the bread receive,
A broken fragment filling me with love;
While ecstasy doth all my pain relieve,
As Angels seem to serve me from above.
The blood red wine brings joy of priceless worth
And He who gives is more than human priest—
’Tis He Himself—The Lord of Heaven and earth—
Come down to join us in the Holy Feast.
And in the silence still, sweet anthems ring,
Which raise us to the peerless heights of Heaven,
Where hosts of Angels in great gladness sing
In praise for Love to men so freely given.
The feast is o’er—the flowers fairer grow,
Renewed in body, spirit, soul and mind,
I from the garden back to battle go,
Inspired by the love so great and kind.
Lord, when I’m worn and weary in the fight,
Thro’ memory come back to me again,
And help me thro' each day to do the right,
To find the secret of real joy in pain.
And when I cannot spend the precious hour,
To give Thee all the praise and honor due,
Oh, grant that by Thy Love’s own gracious power,
I may be ever loyal to Thee, and true.