The Long Road

Long the road,
Till Love came down it!
Dark the life,
Till Love did crown it!
Dark the life,
And long the road,
Till Love came
To share the load!
For the touch
Of Love transfigures
All the road
And all its rigours.
Life and Death,
Love's touch transfigures.
Life and Death
And all that lies
In between,
Love sanctifies.
Once the heavenly spark is lighted,
Once in love two hearts united,
Nevermore
Shall aught that was be
As before.

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)

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Life's Chequer-Board

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

The Ballad Of Lost Souls

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

Poison-Seeds

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

English

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Road-Mates

From deepest depth, O Lord, I cry to Thee.
"My Love runs quick to your necessity."

I am bereft; my soul is sick with loss.
"Dear one, I know.    My heart broke on the Cross."

What most I loved is gone.    I walk alone.
"My Love shall more than fill his place, my own."

The burden is too great for me to bear.
"Not when I'm here to take an equal share."

The road is long, and very wearisome.
"Just on in front I see the light of home."

The night is black; I fear to go astray.
"Hold My hand fast.    I'll lead you all the way."

My eyes are dim, with weeping all the night.
"With one soft kiss I will restore your sight."

And Thou wilt do all this for me?--for me?
"For this I came--...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Cross-Roads
Oft, as he jogs along the Winding-Way,
Occasion comes for Every Man to say,--
"This Road?--or That?" and as he chooses them,
So shall his journey end in Night or Day.
William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Hearts In Exile
O Exiled Hearts--for you, for you--
Love still can find the way!
Hear the voices of the women on the road!
O Shadowed Lives--for you, for you--
Hope hath not lost her ray!
Hear the laughter of the children on the road!
O Gloomy Night--for you, for you--
Dawn tells of coming day!
Hear the clink of breaking fetters on the road!
O Might sans Right--for you, for you--
The feet of crumbling clay!
Hear the slow, sure tread of Freedom on the road!
William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

The Pilgrim Way
But once I pass this way,
And then--no more.
But once--and then, the Silent Door
Swings on its hinges,--
Opens ... closes,--
And no more
I pass this way.
So while I may,
With all my might,
I will essay
Sweet comfort and delight,
To all I meet upon the Pilgrim Way.
For no man travels twice
The Great Highway,
That climbs through Darkness up to Light,--
Through Night
To Day.
William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

The King's High Way
A wonderful Way is The King's High Way;
It runs through the Nightlands up to the Day;
From the wonderful WAS, by the wonderful IS,
To the still more wonderful IS TO BE,--
Runs The King's High Way.

Through the crooked by-ways of history,
Through the times that were dark with mystery,
From the cities of man's captivity,
By the shed of The Child's nativity,
And over the hill by the crosses three,
By the sign-post of God's paternity,
From Yesterday into Eternity,--
Runs The King's High Way.
And wayfaring men, who have strayed, still say
It is good to travel The King's High Way.

Through the dim, dark Valley of Death, at times,
To the peak of the Shining Mount it climbs,
While wonders, and glories, and joys untold
William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

The Road
Along the road I smelt the rose,
The wild-rose in its veil of rain;
And how it was, God only knows,
But with its scent I saw again
A girl's face at a window-pane,
Gazing through tears that fell like rain.

'Tis twelve years now, so I suppose.
Twelve years ago. 'Twas then I thought,
"Love is a burden bitter-sweet.
And he who runs must not be fraught:
Free must his heart be as his feet."

Again I heard myself repeat,
"Love is a burden bitter-sweet."
Yet all my aims had come to nought.
I smelt the rose; I felt the rain
Lonely I stood upon the road.

Of one thing only was I fain
To be delivered of my load.
A moment more and on I strode.
I cared not whither led the road
That led not back to her again.
Madison Julius Cawein