The great Gods pass through the great Time-hall,
Stately and high;
The little men climb the low clay wall
To gape and spy;
"We wait for the Gods," the little men cry,
"But these are our brothers passing by."
The great Gods pass through the great Time-hall;
Who can see?
The little men nod by the low clay wall,
So tired they be;
'"Tis weary waiting for Gods," they yawn,
"There's a world o' men, but the Gods are gone."
But their eyes were holden that they should not know him. --Luke 24. 16.
My Father, may I be careful of getting weary and missing the best through the need of rest. Intensify my desire for the songs and glorious ways, that I may not settle into dullness and slumber, while others pass on in the light. I pray for a keener sense of the possessions made possible by the deeds and cares of noble men and women. Amen.