HE HAS come from far, that weary One
Who sits by the lone well-side;
And tired and faint, ‘neath the Eastern sun,
He rests in the fierce noontide.
O cool are the waters far below,
And thirsting is He to drink;
But a greater thirst His heart doth know,
As He sitteth on the brink.
And known to Him ere it meets His ear,
The tread of those coming feet;
An erring one to the well draws near,
Whom His heart goes forth to meet.
Goes forth with love and with healing grace,
For He knoweth all her need:
With a careless glance she scans His face,
But His heart she cannot read.
And yet those miles He has traveled o’er,
And has waited for her there:
Has thirsted that she might thirst no more,
But unfailing waters share!
And O, He knoweth, He knoweth well,
The price which Himself must pay;
Her tears to wipe and her fears to quell,
And her sins to take away.
To clothe her soul in the garments white,
That washed in His blood must be;
And His mind foresees—O wondrous
sight!
His Cross and His agony!
The holy God and the sinner met!
What marvelous grace is here!
She hears His voice, but she knows not yet
Herself to her God so near.
So far in sin, but so near in grace,
So near to the heart of love!
O erring child of Samarian race,
Rest here like a weary dove.
He tells of a fountain clear and deep,
That she need not seek afar;
Of the still sure waters, where His sheep
So tenderly shelter’d are.
He tells her of joy beyond her ken,
And He shows her who He is;
“His delights were with the sons of men”,
Whom He came to fill with bliss.
O happy moments for Him, for her!
She the joyful tidings bears,
He sits regardless of hunger there,
For His Father’s joy He shares:
That another lost one has been found,
And to do His Father’s will
Is His meat and drink—He looks around
For some other heart to fill.
‘Twas thus from His chosen work of grace
He was never turned aside;
And His human wants could find no place,
Until love was satisfied.
O God, our Father, in Christ Thy Son
Is Thy “perfect love” revealed!
And well may our hearts rejoice, each one
By Thy Holy Spirit sealed.
Of love so high, unto depths so low,
Stooping in grace to shine—
Not men nor angels, nor God doth know
Of a love, O God, like Thine!
ML 12/08/1912