30 de jun de 2009

gotas de leitura

Hoje de manhã lendo a meditação diária do Spurgeon eu encontrei uma estrofe de um poema inspirado. Pesquisei um pouco e descobri que é de autoria de Robert Murray M'Cheyne, um ministro escocês. Ele morreu de tifo aos 29 anos de idade, mas mesmo assim influenciou para sempre o protestantismo através de suas pregações, ministério, cartas e poemas.
Curiosamente aos 26 anos M'Cheyne visitou a Terra Santa e ao voltar da mesma consequentemente montou um ministério para alcançar os Judeus em sua paróquia.
Em sequência irei reproduzir o poema. A estrofe que Spurgeon citou é a terceira.
I Am Debtor

When this passing world is done,
When has sunk yon glaring sun,
When we stand with Christ in glory,
Looking o'er life's finished story, 
Then, Lord, shall I fully know 
- Not till then - how much I owe.

When I hear the wicked call
On the rocks and hills to fall, 
When I see them start and shrink 
On the fiery deluge brink, 
- Then, Lord, shall I fully know - 
Not till then - how much I owe.  

When I stand before the throne, 
Dressed in beauty not my own, 
When I see thee as thou art, 
Love thee with unsinning heart, 
Then, Lord, shall I fully know 
- Not till then - how much I owe.  

When the praise of heav'n I hear, 
Loud as thunder to the ear, 
Loud as many water's noise, 
Sweet as harp's melodious voice, 
Then, Lord, shall I fully know 
- Not till then - how much I owe.  

Even on earth, as through a glass 
Darkly, let Thy glory pass, 
Make forgiveness feel so sweet, 
Make Thy Spirit's help so meet, 
Even on earth, Lord, make me know 
Something of how much I owe.  

Chosen not for good in me, 
Wakened up from wrath to flee, 
Hidden in the Saviour's side, 
By the Spirit sanctified, 
Teach me, Lord, on earth to show, 
By my love, how much I owe.  

Oft I walk beneath the cloud, 
Dark, as midnight's gloomy shroud; 
But, when fear is at the height, 
Jesus comes, and all is light; 
Blessed Jesus! bid me show 
Doubting saints how much I owe.  

When in flowery paths I tread, 
Oft by sin I'm captive led; 
Oft I fall - but still arise 
- The Spirit comes - the tempter flies; 
Blessed Spirit! bid me show 
Weary sinners all I owe.  

Oft the nights of sorrow reign 
- Weeping, sickness, sighing, pain; 
But a night Thine anger burns 
- Morning comes and joy returns; 
God of comforts! bid me show 
To Thy poor, how much I owe.  

May 1837.