W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
The Ascension
Arthur Middlemore Morgan’T
Nigh where the faithful Three
Had bid the Master welcome
So oft at Bethany,
’Twas there the Man we cherish,
The Mighty God we praise,
Among His chosen ended
The wondrous forty days.
The coming change to say,
Only a cloud was o’er them
As on a common day;
He stood with Hands uplifted;
He blessed; that blessing o’er
After that earthly pattern
He will not bless them more.
Passed from this world of ill,
Far o’er the sacred village,
Far o’er the ancient hill;
Love unto Love returning,
Light unto kindred Light,
The cloud o’erhead He entered
And passed from mortal sight.
That He shall come once more
In clouds, that we may follow
Where He has gone before;
And then the twelve, descending,
Hastened with joy where lay
The towers of Sion City,
Distant a Sabbath day.
But many an age has passed,
And still the Angel’s promise
We wait, in this, the last,
And oft our hearts expectant
Send up the cry of pain—
“Too long, too long He lingers;
When will He come again?”
Not slack the work proceeds;
On earth He strives and quickens,
In Heaven His Death He pleads.
With Kings for nursing-fathers
Shall we, the servants, fail?
Not without Blood Divinest
Our Master passed the veil.