Gadara, A.D. 31

Rabbi, begone! Thy powers
Bring loss to us and ours.
Our ways are not as Thine.
Thou lovest men, we--swine.
Oh, get you hence, Omnipotence,
And take this fool of Thine!
His soul? What care we for his soul?
What good to us that Thou hast made him whole,
Since we have lost our swine?

And Christ went sadly.
He had wrought for them a sign
Of Love, and Hope, and Tenderness divine;
They wanted--swine.
Christ stands without your door and gently knocks;
But if your gold, or swine, the entrance blocks,
He forces no man's hold--he will depart,
And leave you to the treasures of your heart.

No cumbered chamber will the Master share,
But one swept bare
By cleansing fires, then plenished fresh and fair
With meekness, and humility, and prayer.
There will He come, yet, coming, even there
He stands and waits, and will no entrance win
Until the latch be lifted from within.

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

William Arthur Dunkerley, better known by his pen name John Oxenham, was an English journalist, novelist, and poet. He was a prolific writer in the early 20th century, producing a wide range of literary works including poetry, hymns, and novels. His works often reflected Christian themes and were popular during his time. Dunkerley also contributed to the establishment of the Boys' Brigade, a notable youth organization in the UK. His legacy includes a significant contribution to both literature and social causes.

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Philosopher's Garden

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

Seeds

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

Dies Irae--Dies Pacis

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

The Passing Of The Queen

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

English

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Policeman X

"Shall it be Peace?
A voice within me cried and would not cease,--
'One man could do it if he would but dare.'"
(From "Policeman X" in "Bees in Amber.")


He did not dare!
His swelling pride laid wait
On opportunity, then dropped the mask
And tempted Fate, cast loaded dice,--and lost;
Nor recked the cost of losing.

"Their souls are mine.
Their lives were in thy hand;--
Of thee I do require them!"

The Voice, so stern and sad, thrilled my heart's core
And shook me where I stood.
Sharper than sharpest sword, it fell on him
Who stood defiant, muffle-cloaked and helmed,
With eyes that burned, impatient to be gone.

"The fetor of thy grim burnt offerings
Comes up to me in clouds of bitterness.
Thy fell undoings crucify afres...

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The Inn Of Life

As It was in the Beginning,--
Is Now,--
And...?

Anno Domini I.

    *            *            *            *            *

"No room!
No room!
The Inn is full,
Yea--overfull.
No room have we
for such as ye--
Poor folk of Galilee,
Pass on! Pass on!"

"Nay then!--
Your charity
Will ne'er deny
Some corner mean,
Where she may lie unseen.
For see!--
Her time is nigh."

"Alack! And she
So young and fair!
Place have we none;
And yet--how bid ye gone?
Stay then!--out there
Among the beasts
Ye may find room,
And eke a truss
To lie upon."


Anno Domini 1913, etc., etc.

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"No room!<...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Prince Of Peace

O Thou who standest both for God and Man,
O King of Kings, who wore no earthly crown,
O Prince of Peace, unto Thy feet we come,
                And lay our burden down.

The weight had grown beyond our strength to bear,
Thy Love alone the woful thrall can break,
Thy Love, reborn into this world of care,
                Alone can life remake.

How shall we turn to good this weight of ill?
How of our sorrows build anew to Thee?
"Of your own selves ye cannot stand or build,--
                Only through Me,--through Me!"

O, turn once more to Thee the hearts of men,
Work through the leaven of our grief and pain,
Let not these agonies be all in vain,
                Come, dwell with us again!

The world has nailed itself unto its cross;
O...

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The Diary Of An Old Soul. - September.

        1.

        WE are a shadow and a shining, we!
        One moment nothing seems but what we see,
        Nor aught to rule but common circumstance--
        Nought is to seek but praise, to shun but chance;
        A moment more, and God is all in all,
        And not a sparrow from its nest can fall
        But from the ground its chirp goes up into his hall.

        2.

        I know at least which is the better mood.
        When on a heap of cares I sit and brood,
        Like Job upon his ashes, sorely vext,
        I feel a lower thing than when I stood
        The world's true heir, fearless as, on its stalk,
        A lily meeting Jesus in his walk:
        I am not all mood--I can judge betwixt.

        3.

   ...

George MacDonald

The Winnowing

Lord, Thou hast stricken us, smitten us sore,
Winnowed us fine on the dread threshing-floor.
                "Had I not reason?--far you had strayed,
                Vain was My calling, you would not be stayed."

Low in the dust, Lord, our hearts now are bowed,
Roughly Thy share through our boasting has ploughed.
                "So as My ploughing prepares for the seed,
                So shall the harvest our best hopes exceed."

Lord, we have lost of our dearest and best,
Flung to the void and cast out to the waste.
                "Nay then, not one of them fell from My hand,
                Here at My side in their glory they stand."

How shall we start, Lord, to build life again,
Fairer and sweeter, and freed from its pain?
                "Build y...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Quo Vadis?

Peter, outworn,
And menaced by the sword,
Shook off the dust of Rome;
And, as he fled,
Met one, with eager face,
Hastening cityward,
And, to his vast amaze,
It was The Lord.
"Lord, whither goest Thou?"
He cried, importunate,
And Christ replied,--
"Peter, I suffer loss.
I go to take thy place,
To bear thy cross."

Then Peter bowed his head,
Discomforted;
There, at the Master's feet,
Found grace complete,
And courage, and new faith,
And turned--with Him,
To Death.

So we,--
Whene'er we fail
Of our full duty,
Cast on Him our load,--
Who suffered sore for us,
Who frail flesh wore for us,
Who all things bore for us,--
On Christ, The Lord.

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)