HE CALLED TO ME
The morning came, but earth below still sleeps.
The darkness of the night consumes my soul.
Lament! cried I. Death conquered; life now weeps.
Distress so sorrow-filled but takes its toll.
Departed I, the Tomb my choice in street,
But when I came, the stone was rolled away;
The King whom I had loved in life released.
Stolen! I wept again in my dismay.
The Garden-man with spade in hand emerged,
His gentle eyes I knew, yet I knew not.
Whom do you seek? He softly asked the word.
He called to me, Mary! His voice besought.
I then knew Him again with all delight,
He spoke my name and brought sweet life and light.
21
BAYLEY BULLETIN, JUN-AUG 2016
