A man who is not yet twenty years of age wrote the following poem. He was meditating on Psalm 22, the Psalm of the Suffering Savior. We very gladly print it that it may be the blessing to other hearts that it has been to ours.
Inner ring of dogs surround,
Spotless Lamb from whence no sound,
Outer ring, what mockery staging,
Roaring bulls of Bashan raging.
Blessed Lamb, how thus forsaken,
Soon to be of lion taken.
What cause for Thee to thus be torn,
Tossed to and fro of unicorn?
Yet far above such mortal woes,
Yeah, far above immortal foes,
Within Thy soul, within Thy breast,
The sword hath found a place of rest,
For me.
