THE HOLY EMERALD
The gem, to which the artist did entrust
That Face which now outshines the Cherubim,
Gave up, full willingly, its emerald dust,
To take Christ's likeness, to make room for Him.
So must it be, if thou wouldst bear about
Thy Lord -- thy shining surface must be lowered,
Thy goodly prominence be chipt and scored,
Till those deep scars have brought His features out:
Sharp be the stroke and true, make no complaints;
For heavenly lines thou givest earthy grit:
But oh! how oft our coward spirit faints,
When we are called our jewels to submit
To this keen graver, which so oft hath writ
The Saviour's image on His wounded saints!
The gem, to which the artist did entrust
That Face which now outshines the Cherubim,
Gave up, full willingly, its emerald dust,
To take Christ's likeness, to make room for Him.
So must it be, if thou wouldst bear about
Thy Lord -- thy shining surface must be lowered,
Thy goodly prominence be chipt and scored,
Till those deep scars have brought His features out:
Sharp be the stroke and true, make no complaints;
For heavenly lines thou givest earthy grit:
But oh! how oft our coward spirit faints,
When we are called our jewels to submit
To this keen graver, which so oft hath writ
The Saviour's image on His wounded saints!