W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
The Ascension of Christ
Philip Stanhope Worsley (1835–1866)N
All the labour is gone through,
Christ hath bought us with His Blood,
Proved the work, and found it good,
Sealed, and writ with iron pen,
The unutterable Amen.
Borne above the winds afar,
Where the Angels’ Horses beat
Golden air with flying feet,
Flaming by a path untrod
In among the stars of God.
Nor like earthly Kings He came,
Now rejected of His Own
Grandly quiet and alone
He returneth to His Rest,
Back into the Father’s Breast.
Who believe His Promise true,
Eat His Bread and drink His Cup,
He is seen as He goes up,
Till the cloud, that waiting lies
Veils Him from their yearning eyes.
Words of Blessing were the last,
His receding Hands, outspread,
Pour Redemption on their head,
But the cloud comes in between,
And the Form is no more seen.
Two men robed in shining white—
Why in wonder thus do ye
Gaze, O Men of Galilee?
Hence! nor from the Work refrain
Till your Christ shall come again.
And His Love goes with them there;
To life’s daily talks they turn,
And His secret Presence learn,
While they do His gracious Will,
All is good and nothing ill.
The new Kingdom shall have birth,
And with many a wondrous Sign
Judah shall arise and shine;
But the season and the hour,
These are in the Father’s power.
From the Vision which they saw,
And ourselves example take
From the word those Angels spake.
Nor from the good work refrain
Till our Christ shall come again.
Toil itself is sweet for Him,
If, when under clouds we go,
From the Cross true pleasures flow,
What if ever we should stand,
Crowned in the Celestial Land,
With the Saints at God’s Right Hand!