A lamp once hung in an ancient town
At the corner of a street,
There the wind was keen, and the way was dark,
And the rain would often beat.
And all night long its light would shine
To guide the travelers’ feet.

The lamp was rough and plain and old,
And the storm had beaten it sore;
‘Twas not a thing one would care to show,
Whate’er it had been before,
But no one thought what the lantern was,
‘Twas the light that within it bore.

The lamp is a text for young and old,
Who seek, in a world of pride,
To shine for their Lord and to show Him forth
And never their light to hide.
You are the lantern, a thing of naught,
But Christ is the Light inside.

by G.G.