Pot-pourri of Poems by Mary Andere
(An Easter poem, written in 1942, on returning from the Three Hour service on Good Friday)
Not on a bleak and wintry day,
nor 'neath a moody, sullen sky,
but when the spring blazed forth most gay
My Lord went out to die.
White petals to the ground,
sweet blossom weighing down the trees,
wild flowers spangled all around
His fading Eyes looked on to these.
The promise of new surging powers,
the wild, mad joy that all birds sing
if it be hard to part from Life,
Then 'tis most hard in spring.
Oh Lord, Who for my worthless sake,
turned from life's joys, from love, from spring,
my will I give, that Thou may'st make
Some nearer-to-Thy-purpose thing.
From out the springtime of my life,
its summer, autumn, wintry close,
Lord, fashion Thou, midst stress and strife,
A beauty, perfect as a rose.
That, when I mount that last, lone hill,
as once, You mounted Calvary,
I may have done, led by Thee still,
That thing for which You fashioned me.