W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
The Walking on the Sea
Thomas Toke Lynch (1818–1871)O,
O, where is He that spake,—
And demons from their victims flee,
The dead their slumbers break;
The palsied rise in freedom strong,
The dumb men talk and sing,
And from blind eyes, benighted long,
Bright beams of morning spring.
O, where is He that spake,—
And piercing words of liberty
The deaf ears open shake?
And mildest words arrest the haste
Of fever’s deadly fire,
And strong ones heal the weak who waste
Their life in sad desire.
O, where is He that spake?—
And dark waves rolling heavily
A glassy smoothness take;
And lepers whose own flesh has been
A solitary grave,
See with amaze that they are clean,
And cry, “’Tis He can save!”
’Tis only He can save;
To thousands hungering wearily
A wondrous meal He gave:
Full soon, celestially fed,
Their rustic fare they take;
’Twas springtide when He blest the bread,
And harvest when He brake.
My soul! the Lord is here:
Let all thy fears be hushed in thee,
To leap, to look, to hear,
Be thine: thy needs He’ll satisfy:
Art thou diseased or dumb?
Or dost thou in thine hunger cry?
“I come,” saith Christ; “I come.”