POEM No. 9: Answer To Poem, “No. 8”

My weary soul was half asleep
Exhausted, faint from study deep;
Because I found the truth I’d known
Was with satanic fables sown.
But as I searched the Word of God,
I found light in the Shepherd’s Rod.
I there beheld the Spirit’s toil,
The “Stick” and “Tree” and “Bowl of Oil.”
For light comes from this bowl alone;
God’s Spirit makes the message known.
Oh, message fair, thou art sublime,
God always sends His truth on time!

Awake! my soul, the hour is late–
I quickly now swing wide my gate.
I am so glad I heard the call
That’s sounding now to one and all;
This number eight I will receive.
God help me that I may believe
The truth you bring from “Sheep” and “Kine,”
And help me Loud to keep in line;
I’ll gladly fast on truths so rare,
Lest God should make my table bare;
In place of husks, I’ll “Butter” eat;
Instead of chaff, take “Honey” sweet.

Yes, I behold the “mystic sev’n.”
The clock whose hand points to elev’n
Tells us that now the hour is here
When God in judgment shall appear
To judge us from the books above.
Weep not! Behold the Lion of
The tribe of Judah, who prevailed,
And myst’ries of the seals unveiled.
The “Hands” and “Sticks” the story tell
Of those who will in Canaan dwell.
If we will search the precious “Scroll,”
God’s plans to us it will unroll.

The “Stars” are all the tribes complete–
The saints who never will retreat:
Though fierce the battle rages on,
They fight for souls till hope is gone,
And when their work on earth is done,
And they eternal life have won,
They’ll stand upon the “Sea of Glass”
With joy that nothing can surpass.
To those who will this light behold,
The richest truths will yet unfold.
Anoint my eyes that I may see,
And with Thy “Robe,” Christ, cover me.

A faithful “Horse” I want to be,
And spread afar Salvation free,
A heav’nly angel as my guide,
I have no other goal beside,
But forth to go men’s souls to save,
With many million “horses” brave.
The “Rod” it is a symbol true
Of this great work we have to do.
As shepherds catch the sheep with it.
So must we snatch them from hell’s pit.
We’ll snatch them from the fire like brands
And thus fulfill the Lord’s commands.

I will digest the Symbol’ Code,
Make Present Truth my lone abode.
I’ll gather up the fragments too,
I’ll do what e’re God bids me do.
Yes, I this “Woman” do behold,
Whose seed must be as pure as gold.
‘Tis God’s true church in every age;
‘Tis all the faithful who engage
In his great plan of saving souls
Instead of money-raising goals.
O Lord, just this one thing I plead,
Make me one of this “Woman’s” seed.

I dare not loose my Golden crown,
And by God’s horsemen be trod down.
Then with the wicked be in hell,
When I could with the faithful dwell.
So very sad would be my fate,
Should I neglect Salvation great;
Fail to obey I can’t afford;
And fall by His appointed sword.
And there remain a thousand years,
But to awake with bitter tears;
To be one hundred years a slave,
And then, alas, a fi’ry grave.

Now when the locust come to see
If vict’rys seal doth rest on me:
May I be with the faithful few
Who sigh and cry for wrongs they do,
Let me not feel the scorpi’n’s sting,
But may I too some trophies bring.
I will by Grace obey my God:
Believe the message of the “Rod,”
So I’ll with Christ in “Glory” reign,
And through the ages praise His Name.
I’ll quickly, board train “number eight,”
And take no chance on being late.

View PDF: Poem No. 9: Answer To Poem, “No. 8”