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THY HIDDEN ONES

“The world knoweth us not, because it knew Him not.”—1 John iii. 1.

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C. F. Richter, † 1711.

tr., Emma Frances Bevan, 1899

All fair within those Children of the light,

Though dark their brows beneath the desert sun;

Mysterious joys, far hidden from all sight,

The King of Glory giveth to each one—

No thought of man has pictured them,

No hand may touch that diadem;

Within God’s light His own abide

With hidden glory glorified.

To earthly eyes they are as Adam’s race—

They wear the earthly form, and scars of pain,

On them as on all sinners leave their trace;

Their outward needs are those of other men.

And theirs the forms of earthly life,

Theirs sleeping, waking, want, and strife,

Yet this they have that they despise

What fairest seems to earthly eyes.

And inwardly their life is from above,

The Lord’s Almighty Word hath quickened them;

Flames kindled from the everlasting Love,

The children of the New Jerusalem;

Their brethren are the Saints in light,

And songs of sweetness infinite

They sing with them to God Most High,

A deep and wondrous melody.

They walk upon the earth, and dwell in Heaven,

Though powerless, guard the world with arms unseen;

Deep peace to them in midst of strife is given,

And all they wish they have, though poor and mean.

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Storms beat them, but may not destroy,

Fast rooted in eternal joy;

They walk as in the shade of death,

Yet living on in silent faith.

When Christ their Life shall be made manifest,

When He shall come with all His power to rule,

Their glory, hidden long, shall be confessed;

Arise and shine! O bright and beautiful!

With Christ ye shall ascend on high,

Victorious in His victory—

The hidden light shall shine afar,

Each saint an everlasting star.

Rejoice, thou Earth! Be glad, O field and hill,

That ye are for a little while their home;

The Lord Jehovah thus doth set His seal

In token of His blessing yet to come.

And when to make His diadem

He bringeth forth each hidden gem,

He then shall hear thy weary sighs,

The earth shall be as Paradise.

Thou hidden Life of faithful souls—Thou Light

Of that mysterious inner world of thought,

Oh give us grace to follow Thee aright,

From cross and toil and sorrow shrinking not;

Content to be but little known,

Content to wander on alone;

Here—hidden inwardly in Thee;

There—Light in thine own Light to be.

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