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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420659" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Call Of The Christian</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not always as the whirlwind's rush<br>On Horeb's mount of fear,<br>Not always as the burning bush<br>To Midian's shepherd seer,<br>Nor as the awful voice which came<br>To Israel's prophet bards,<br>Nor as the tongues of cloven flame,<br>Nor gift of fearful words,--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not always thus, with outward sign<br>Of fire or voice from Heaven,<br>The message of a truth divine,<br>The call of God is given!<br>Awaking in the human heart<br>Love for the true and right,--<br>Zeal for the Christian's better part,<br>Strength for the Christian's fight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor unto manhood's heart alone<br>The holy influence steals<br>Warm with a rapture not its own,<br>The heart of woman feels!<br>As she who by Samaria's wall<br>The Saviour's errand sought,--<br>As those who with the fervent Paul<br>And meek Aquila wrought:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or those meek ones whose martyrdom<br>Rome's gathered grandeur saw<br>Or those who in their Alpine home<br>Braved the Crusader's war,<br>When the green Vaudois, trembling, heard,<br>Through all its vales of death,<br>The martyr's song of triumph poured<br>From woman's failing breath.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And gently, by a thousand things<br>Which o'er our spirits pass,<br>Like breezes o'er the harp's fine strings,<br>Or vapors o'er a glass,<br>Leaving their token strange and new<br>Of music or of shade,<br>The summons to the right and true<br>And merciful is made.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, then, if gleams of truth and light<br>Flash o'er thy waiting mind,<br>Unfolding to thy mental sight<br>The wants of human-kind;<br>If, brooding over human grief,<br>The earnest wish is known<br>To soothe and gladden with relief<br>An anguish not thine own;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though heralded with naught of fear,<br>Or outward sign or show;<br>Though only to the inward ear<br>It whispers soft and low;<br>Though dropping, as the manna fell,<br>Unseen, yet from above,<br>Noiseless as dew-fall, heed it well,---<br>Thy Father's call of love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420659" data-title="The Call Of The Christian de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="Not always as the whirlwind's rush
On Horeb's mount of fear,
Not always as the burning bush
To Midian's shepherd seer,
Nor as the awful voice which came
To Israel's prophet bards,
Nor as the tongues of cloven flame,
Nor gift of fearful words,--

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