The Empty Chair
Wherever is an empty chair—
Lord, be Thou there!
And fill it—like an answered prayer—
With grace of fragrant thought, and rare
Sweet memories of him whose place
Thou takest for a little space!—
—With thought of that heroical
Great heart that sprang to Duty’s call;
—With thought of all the best in him,
That Time shall have no power to dim;
—With thought of Duty nobly done,
And High Eternal Welfare won.
Think! Would you wish that he had stayed,
When all the rest The Call obeyed?
—That thought of self had held in thrall
His soul, and shrunk it mean and small?
Nay, rather thank the Lord that he
Rose to such height of chivalry;
—That, with the need, his loyal soul
Swung like a needle to its pole;
—That, setting duty first, he went
At once, as to a sacrament.
So, Lord, we thank Thee for Thy Grace,
And pray Thee fill his vacant place!
