POOR, trembling sheep! Ah! Who outside the fold
Hath bid thee stand, all weary as thou art,
Dangers around thee, and the bitter cold
Creeping and growing into thine inmost heart?
Who bids thee wait till some mysterious feeling,
Thou knowest not what—perchance mayst never know— ​
Shall find thee, when in darkness thou art kneeling,
And fill thee with a rich and wondrous glow
Of love and faith; and change to warmth and light
The chill and darkness of thy spirit's night!

For miracles like this who bids thee wait?
Behold, God's precious word to thee is, "Come!"
The tender Shepherd opens wide the gate,
And in His love would gently lead thee home,
Why shouldst thou wait? Long centuries ago,
O timid sheep, the Shepherd paid for thee!
Thou art His own. Wouldst thou His beauty know,
Nor trust the love which yet thou canst not see?
Thou hast not learned this lesson to receive:
More blest are they who see not, yet believe.

Still dost thou wait for feeling? Dost thou say,
"Fain would I love and trust, but hope is dead;
I have no faith, and without faith, who may
Rest in the blessing which is only shed
Upon the faithful? I must stand and wait."
Not so. The Shepherd doth not ask of thee
Faith in thy faith, but only faith in Him;
And this He meant in saying, "Come to Me."
In light or darkness, seek to do His will,
And leave the work of faith to Jesus still.