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Title: The Chosen City
Author: Mary Alice Walton [
More Titles by Walton]
On starlit height, distant 'gainst horizon, bright
The Way of the Cross is outlined,
By rocky steeps barren 'mid dangers unseen,
A narrow straight pathway doth wind.
The sighing winds whisper of sacrifice, toil,
And foot-prints where pilgrims have trod
Are crimson and tear-washed, where fissures are rent
Wierd spirits of pain flit abroad.
A woman in sadness e'er watching this Cross
Revealed in the morn of her life,
To travel o'er mountains alone through the storm
Means suffering and wearisome strife.
'Mid pitfalls of doubtings and barriers high,
A valley called Vale of Delight,
Appears to her vision, its beauties aglow
With charms all alluring to sight.
Its meadows are tinted by golden-hued lights,
Unruffled its waters, they chime
With harmonic singing, while world-wedded dance
To musical rhythm and time.
Red wine floweth freely, with jingle of gold
Jests mingle with laughter so gay,
In Vale of Delight merry banquets and balls
Turn quickly the night into day.
The woman enraptured by dazzling display--
Yet holiness loveth and right--
Back to the mountains she turneth her gaze,
There gleaming through mists beyond heights,
Is glittering sheen of sparkling gemmed spires,
A city of pearls beyond steeps;
But Calvary's Cross is path to its gate,
In sorrow she bitterly weeps.
In Vale of Delight seems earthly repose,
And freedom from sorrow and pain;
But pleadings of Jesus appeal to her heart,
In City of Lovelight doth reign.
His spirit so gentle o'er floweth with good,
With kindliest tokens of love;
The promise He giveth beyond vale of tears--
Eternal abiding above.
To City of Holies she pleads with her Lord,
Help me in Thy mercy come in;
Keep me from slipping o'er precipice deep,
Laid for all in Valley of Sin.
Then journey to Starworld she finds full of thorns,
Sore-pressed on the way by life's care,
Till crieth she, "Saviour, though saving Thy Cross,
Its burdens most grievous to bear".
Life's duties demanding a sacrificed heart
By trials hedged on either side,
Yet beauty of holies celestial with love,
I long for thee what e'er betide.
Her Saviour upholding, foes dropping by way,
She trustingly presses her flight,
When sin all surrendered and laid upon Cross
In peace with Christ enters Lovelight.
[The end]
Mary Alice Walton's poem: Chosen City
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