Francis Turner Palgrave (1824–1897)

CHRIST in His heavenly garden walks all day,

And calls to souls upon the world’s highway;

Wearied with trifles, maim’d and sick with sin,

Christ by the gate stands, and invites them in.

—“How long, unwise, will ye pursue your woe?

Here from the throne sweet waters ever go:

Here the white lilies shine like stars above:

Here in the red rose burns the face of Love.

“’Tis not from earthly paths I bid you flee,

But lighter in My ways your feet will be:

’Tis not to summon you from human mirth,

But add a depth and sweetness not of earth.

“Still by the gate I stand as on ye stray:

Turn your steps hither: am not I the Way?

The sun is falling fast; the night is nigh:

Why will ye wander? Wherefore will ye die?

“Look on My hands and side, for I am He:

None to the Father cometh, but by Me:

For you I died; once more I call you home:

I live again for you: My children, come!”