DEAR little ones who love the Lord,
And love to serve him, too,
Hear how his name was once confessed
By a little child like you.
‘Twas long ago — when they who loved
The Saviour’s precious name
Were scorned and mocked, and many a saint
Suffered a death of shame.
Before the Roman emperor’s throne,
An aged Christian stood;
He dreaded not the tyrant’s frown,
For he trusted in his God.
So his step was firm, and his look was calm,
And his eye was clear and bright;
And his hands were clasped upon his breast,
In prayer to the God of might.
He prayed the Lord for strength to bear
The suffering to come;
And he stalled as he thought he soon would be
With Christ in his heavenly home.
They told him to deny his Lord,
And serve their gods instead;
But the Christian’s feet were on a rock,
And he meekly raised his head.
And, pointing to the sky, he cried, —
“My God is Lord alone;
He is the king of heaven and earth,
And Christ with him is one.”
Then cruel men, with ruthless hands,
Tortured the faithful saint;
But the soul within was calm and strong,
Though the body grew weak and faint.
And he cried, “There is one only God
What ye call gods are none;
They cannot hear you when ye pray, —
My God is God alone.
“Even a little child would know
‘Tis better to serve one —
One only God of power and might,
Than worship wood and stone.”
“We’ll prove thy words,” the emperor said.
“Let the Christian’s test be tried,”
And his glance fell on a gentle boy,
Who clung to his mother’s side.
“Go, ask you little child,” he said,
“Whose god shall be adored;
Are Rome’s high deities to bow
To this haughty Christian’s Lord?”
The boy was asked; and looking up,
With a smile upon his face,
“Christ Jesus is the Lord,” he said,
“The Lord of love and grace.”
“Who taught thee this?” the emperor cried,
“How darest thou answer so?”
“I love the Lord,” the boy replied,
“And I know he loves me, too.
“My mother told me, long ago,
How the blessed Saviour came
And died to win eternal life
For all who love his name.”
“She taught thee so!” the tyrant cried,
“Then thou and she shall know
That they who scorn our Roman gods
Shall not unpunished go.”
The mother clasped her darling close,
As she whispered in his ear,
“Fear not, my son; still speak the truth;
Thou to the Lord art dear.”
Then from her arms they tore the child;
And, oh! that mother’s woe
As she saw beneath the cruel scourge,
The blood begin to flow.
“What can Christ’s love do for him now?”
His fierce tormentors cried.
“It can help him meekly to endure,”
The mother’s, voice replied.
Then again the blows fell thick and fast,
But the boy still sweetly smiled;
It seemed as if the Lord stood by,
And comforted the child.
And still, when they bade him own their gods,
The steadfast answer came,
“There is one God — Christ’s one with him:
Thrice holy, is his name.”
Then yet again their cruel hands
Tortured the patient child;
And the Christian’s God and the Christian’s faith
They mockingly reviled.
“What can Christ’s love do now?” they asked,
As the boy lay almost dead;
“‘Twill teach him to forgive his foes,”
The faithful mother said.
Again the murderers ply the lash,
But their work is ended now;
For their victim lies with dosed eyes,
And death on his marble brow.
But as the mother clasped her child,
Once more his voice was heard,
With a heavenly ring in its feeble tone,
Like the note of a soaring bird.
“Christ Jesus is the Lord,” he said;
“There is no god beside.
I love him, and he loveth me!”
He ceased — then smiled — and died.
Then tauntingly the emperor said,
“What can Christ’s love do now?”
The mother strove to stay her tears
And calm her troubled brow;
And she pointed upward, as she said,
“The love of Christ Hath given
A glorious crown of victory
For my boy to wear in heaven.
“And, oh! may God to me give grace
To fight the fight of faith;
So shall I run the heavenly race,
And triumph, e’en in death.”
C.