The Church Walking with the World: I.

This poem by Matilda C. Edwards first appeared in the Free Presbyterian Magazine Vol. 3 P. 40. May 1898.

The Church and the World walked far apart,
On the changing shores of time;
The World was singing a giddy song,
And the Church a hymn sublime.
"Come, give me your hand," cried the merry world,
"And walk with me this way;"
But the good Church hid her snowy hand
And solemnly answered, "Nay,
I will not give you my hand at all,
And I will not walk with you;
Your way is the way of endless death;
Your words are all untrue."

"Nay walk with me but a little space,"
Said the World with a kindly air;
"The road I walk is a pleasant road,
And the sun shines always there;
Your path is thorny and rough and rude,
And mine is broad and plain;
My road is paved with flowers and gems,
And yours with tears and pain.
The sky above me is always blue;
No want, no toil I know;
The sky above you is always dark;
Your lot a lot of woe.
My path, you see, is a broad, fair path,
And my gate is high and wide, -
There is room enough for you and for me
To travel side by side."

God willing, we shall continue the poem next time.