WHY dost Thou pass unheeded,
Treading with pierced feet
The halls of the kingly palace,
The busy street?
Oh marvelous in Thy beauty,
Crowned with the light of God,
Why fall they not down to worship
Where Thou halt trod?
Why are Thy hands extended
Beseeching whilst men pass by
With their empty words and their laughter,
Yet passing on to die?
Unseen, unknown, unregarded,
Calling and waiting yet—
They hear Thy knock and they tremble—
They hear, and they forget.
And Thou in the midst art standing
Of old and forever the same—
Thou Nearest their songs and their jesting,
But not Thy Name.
The thirty-three years forgotten
Of the weary way Thou Nast trod—
Thou art but a name unwelcome,
O Savior God!
Yet amongst the highways and hedges,
Amongst the lame and the blind,
The poor and the maimed and the outcast,
Still dost Thou seek and find—
There by the wayside lying
The eyes of Thy love can see
The wounded, the naked, the dying,
Too helpless to come to Thee.
So art Thou watching and waiting
Till the wedding is furnished with guests—
And the last of the sorrowful singeth,
And the last of the weary rests.
C. P. C.