In France an aged woman dwelt,
Who was both poor and blind;
Yet she the beams of mercy felt,
For God on her had shined,
In Christ, His Son, whose blessed face
His radiant glory, love, and grace,
In fulness are combined.
Thus, though she was deprived of sight,
And all was dark around,
She yet in Christ had heavenly light.
And blessing in Him found;
With eyes anointed she could see
The One who set her spirit free,
And made her joys abound.
The Bible was her treasured book,
A sure resource in need,
And though thereon she could not look,
She yet its truths could read;
With raised type, by touch of hand,
Its language she could understand,
And found it food indeed.
Her lowly lot required that she
Should labor for her bread,
And so, although her heart was free,
A life of toil she led;
And as her work was rough and hard,
The softness of her hands was marred;
To feeling nearly dead.
The living, telegraphic wire,
Which long had been her aid,
Thus idle, like a slackened lyre,
No words to her conveyed.
She keenly felt the bitter loss,
Which was to her indeed a cross,
And on her spirit weighed.
One morn, on parting with her Book,
Whose truths she so much missed,
The treasure in her hands she took,
And lovingly she kissed,
As t’were a friend who held her heart,
Saluting it, still loth to part,
And scarcely could desist.
But, oh! how tender are the ways
Of God unto His own,
Her grief He quickly turned to praise,
For mercy to her shown;
For as the Volume she caressed,
She found that on her lips were pressed
The words her heart had known.
Thenceforth her mouth—to her delight—
Supplied her fingers’ place,
And soon she learned to read aright
The word of truth and grace.
Thus did the Lord, in love divine,
Upon her clouded spirit shine,
And re-illume her face.
His words—the kisses of His mouth—
Which with her lips she traced,
Refreshed, like breezes from the south,
And were of sweetest taste;
While in the Lord did she rejoice,
And raised to Him the heart and voice,
Whose love her soul embraced.
ML 11/14/1909