Stephen--Saul

Stephen, who died while I stood by consenting,
Wrought in his death the making of a life,
Bruised one hard heart to thought of swift repenting,
Fitted one fighter for a nobler strife.

Stephen, the Saint, triumphant and forgiving,
Prayed while the hot blows beat him to the earth.
Was that a dying? Rather was it living!--
Through his soul's travail my soul came to birth.

Stephen, the Martyr, full of faith and fearless,
Smiled when his bruised lips could no longer pray,--
Smiled with a courage undismayed and peerless,--
Smiled!--and that smile is with me, night and day.

O, was it I that stood there, all consenting?
I--at whose feet the young men's clothes were laid?
Was it my will that wrought that hot tormenting?
My heart that boasted over Stephen, dead?

Yes, it was I. And sore to me the telling.
Yes, it was I. And thought of it has been
God's potent spur my whole soul's might compelling
These outer darknesses for Him to win.

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)

Your Place

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

Evening Brings Us Home

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

Thy Will Be Done!

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

God's Handwriting

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

English

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To You Who Have Lost

I know!    I know!--
The ceaseless ache, the emptiness, the woe,--
The pang of loss,--
The strength that sinks beneath so sore a cross.
"--Heedless and careless, still the world wags on,
And leaves me broken ...    Oh, my son!    my son!"

Yet--think of this!--
Yea, rather think on this!--
He died as few men get the chance to die,--
Fighting to save a world's morality.
He died the noblest death a man may die,
Fighting for God, and Right, and Liberty;--
And such a death is Immortality.

"He died unnoticed in the muddy trench."
Nay,--God was with him, and he did not blench;
Filled him with holy fires that nought could quench,
And when He saw his work below was done,
He gently called to him,--"My son!    My son!
I need thee for a...

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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...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

The Ballad Of Lost Souls

With the thirty pieces of silver,
They bought the Potter's Field;
For none would have the blood-money
And the interest it might yield.

The Place of Blood for the Price of Blood,
And that was meet, I ween,
For there they would bury the dead who died
In frowardness and sin.

And the first man they would bury there
Was Judas Iscariot;
And that was as dreadful a burying
As ever was, I wot.

For the sick earth would not keep him;
Each time it thrust him out,
And they that would have buried him
Stood shuddering round about.

And others they would bury
In that unhallowed spot,
But honest earth would none of them,
Because of Iscariot.

And oh, it was a fell, fell place,
With dead black trees all round,
And a quag...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

White Brother

Midway between the flaming lines he lay,
A tumbled heap of blood, and sweat, and clay;
    --God's son!

And none could succour him.    First this one tried,
Then that ...    and then another ...    and they died;
    --God's sons!

Those others saw his plight, and laughed and jeered,
And, at each helper's fall, laughed more, and cheered;
    --God's sons?

So, through the torture of an endless day,
In agonies that none could ease, he lay;
    --God's son!

Then, as he wrestled for each hard-won breath,
Bleeding his life out, craving only death;--
    --God's son!

--Came One in white, athwart the fiery hail,
And in His hand, a shining cup--The Grail;
    --God's Son!

He knelt beside him on the reeking ground,
And ...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

St. Stephen

First champion of the Crucified!
Who, when the fight began
Between the Church and worldly pride
So nobly fought, so nobly died,
The foremost in the van;
While rallied to your valiant side
The red-robed martyr-band;
To-night with glad and high acclaim
We venerate thy saintly name;
Accept, Saint Stephen, to thy praise
And glory, these our lowly lays.

The chosen twelve with chrismed hand
And burning zeal within,
Led forth their small yet fearless band
On Pentecost, and took their stand
Against the world and sin --
While rang aloud the battle-cry:
"The hated Christians all must die!
As died the Nazarene before,
The God they believe in and adore."
Yet Stephen's heart quailed not with fear
At persecution's cry;
But loving, as he d...

Abram Joseph Ryan

To This End

And hast Thou help for such as me,
Sin-weary, stained, forlorn?
        "Yea then,--if not for such as thee
                    To what end was I born?"

But I have strayed so far away,
So oft forgotten Thee.
        "No smallest thing that thou hast done
                    But was all known to Me."

And I have followed other gods,
And brought Thy name to scorn.
        "It was to win thee back from them
                    I wore the crown of thorn."

And, spite of all, Thou canst forgive,
And still attend my cry?
        "Dear heart, for this end I did live,
                    To this end did I die."

And if I fall away again,
And bring Thy Love to shame?
        "I'll find thee out where'er thou art,
                    ...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)