If thou wert called upon to-day
One dearer than all others—yea,
The very heart of love—to slay,
As Abraham was called of old,
And wrote his faith in deeds of gold,
How should thy story then be told?
Wouldst thou reply unto the call:
Dear Lord, Thou art supreme o'er all,
And as Thou wilt it shall befall;
Not my will, Lord, but thine be done:
Lo, here I offer Thee my son,
My heart's delight, my only one?
Then shalt thou lift thine eyes to see
Obedience liberating thee
And bidding loss and lack to flee;
While in the thicket a surprise
Awaits thine opening, grateful eyes,—
Thine own self-love, the sacrifice.
