"A Stranger in the Land."

Thou camest Lord, to this sad sinful earth,
To trace love’s footprints on the desert sand;
Men gave Thee but a manger at Thy birth,
And held Thee as a stranger in the land.
We hear Thee speak the word that raised the dead;
Amidst the needy crowds we see Thee stand:
And yet, Thou had’st not where to lay Thy head,
For wast Thou not a stranger in the land?
We see the love that held Thee to the Crass,
Though mocked and hated by the heartless band—
Arrayed against Thee every evil force—
A scorned rejected stranger in the land.
Beyond the bands of death for evermore,
We know the love that knocks with pierced hand:
Though still men keep Thee waiting at the door,
And treat Thee as a stranger in the land.
If thus men scorn Thee, let me take Thy part,
And tread the way of faith that love has planned;
So hold my feet, and satisfy my heart,
That I may walk a stranger in the land.
Hamilton Smith.