O! what a tale that day was told,
In Gaza’s distant, lonely waste
As Philip “Jesus” did unfold,
And all His blessed path retraced.
He preaches “Jesus” what a theme!
God’s tender plant, God’s stricken Lamb;
No painter’s fancy, poet’s dream,
But heaven’s one eternal psalm.
That Name for every page unrolled,
Is found the only fitting key,
‘Tis His – this bitter path foretold,
The Man of grief and sorrows – HE.
The weary heart which sought repose,
In Jewish rites, but sought in vain,
Has found the stream of life that flows
From smitten rock through desert plain
With Him – that smitten One, henceforth,
Boldly his place, his part he takes;
“His life was taken from the earth,”
Then every link with earth he breaks.
Death’s shadow rests on all around,
But joyful now he onward speeds,
For ah! his heart in Christ hath found,
Its life, its home, yea, all it needs.
And shall we hear with hearts unmoved,
And clinging still to earthly things,
This matchless tale of God’s Beloved,
From whose deep woe our blessing springs?
Forbid it, Lord! to earth we die,
As those who, crucified with Thee,
Can say, “I live, and yet not I-
But (wondrous truth!) Christ lives in me.”