ABRAHAM
Oh Man!
Your every hope and joy
Rest in that boy!
How slay?
How give his life away?
Surely twill break
Your heart. Oh take
Him back again.
And yet he gave his only son to die
Drawing from that deep well of love
That gives nor questions why.
.
THE WIDOW
Woman,
You only have a mite –
Oh, hold it tight!
Why give?
How will you live?
So small to some,
So vast a sum
To you – your all.
She gave it – tiny, mean and small,
And with it the sweet store of love
Of one who gives her all.
.
THE CHRISTIAN
Dear Lord,
You have my treasure store.
Son – give me more.
No pain,
No sweat, no stain
Of blood hallows
Your gifts; shallows
The love you bring
Cheap gifts are thorns and nails, a dart
Thrust in my side. I gave my all.
My son, give me your heart!