In Bethany there dwelt a maid,
And she was young and very fair;
‘Twas at her house that Jesus stayed,
And loved to stay, when he was there.
For Mary seated at his feet,
In rapture hung upon His word:
His language flow’d in accent sweet,
Such language mortal never heard.
Her sister, cross in looks and word,
(The cares of life have this effect,)
Came and accused her, to her Lord,
Of idleness and of neglect.
“Martha, Martha,” He kindly said,
Forego thy troubles and thy care—
One needful thing, a crust of bread,
Is all I ask with thee to share.
“Mary hath chosen that good part,
To hear my word and do my will,
Which shall not from her trusting heart
Be taken.” It shall flourish still.
Dear Mary, in this picture see
Thy own, drawn by a master hand;
Name, face and character agree
Drawn by Saint Luke, an artist grand.
(David John Scott)
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Based on Topics: Life Poems, Faces Poems, Fairness Poems, Name Poems, Art Poems, Sisters Poems, Idleness PoemsBased on Keywords: care-, bethany