Mark xvi. 12, 13; Luke xxiv. 13-35.
The Walk To Emmaus.
Slowly along the rugged pathway walked
Two saddened wayfarers, bent on one quest;
With them Another, who had asked to share
Their travel, since they left the city's walls;
Their converse too intent for speed; and oft,
Where lingered on the rocks the sonset's tints,
They checked their footsteps, careless of the hour
And waning light, and heavy falling dews,
For from the Stranger's lips came words that burned
And lit the altar fuel in their hearts,
Consuming fear and quickening faith at once.
God's words grow luminous as He spoke;
And all along the ages good from ill;
And light from darkness sprang, as day from night.
Thus on their path they communed, till they reached
The lowly wicket; and their urgent plea,
"Day is far spent, abide with us,'' prevailed.
The lamp is lighted o'er the simple board,
And there is silence for a space; but, lo!
The Stranger takes the bread and blesses it
And breaks; and like a dream, the veil is rent
Which hid their Lord and Master from their gaze;
It is His eye, His hand, His voice, Himself.
Fain had they fallen at His feet, and fain
Clung to Him as of old; it may not be;
His place is empty, but His love is there,
A calm, abiding Presence in their hearts.
O Jesus, Saviour, hear our cry. We, too,
Are weary travellers on life's rough path,
And Thou art still unchangeably the same.
Come, Lord, to us, and let us walk with Thee;
Come and unfold the words of heavenly life,
Till our souls burn within us, and the day
Breaks, and the Day-star rises in our hearts.
Yea, Lord, abide with us, rending the veil
Which hides Thee from the loving eye of faith;
Dwell with us to the world's end evermore;
Until thou callest us to dwell with Thee. E. H. B.
"Tender Grass and Waters of Quietness" 1885