marcus baney

nearer with.

fast, my heart doth wander yet.
faster still, it doth forget.
to forge a fire (or light a match)
when every ember seems to breathe it’s last.
i cannot see thee (yea! still quite dark)
but for the blessed shine that thou impart.
i did not see thee! come in so soft.
though wishes mine heart to seest thou more oft.
i find myself thirsting, panting, lo!
but for there is only one fount i know,
who comest with streams of abundant water
that flow as gentle as a loving father.

and He is mine, as i remain His.
i long for time more, to be nearer with.

and behold! thou come in! soft as a dove!
and fillest mine heart with thine unchanging love.

(forgive the vernacular, i’ve been reading a lot of george macdonald lately)