O city of learning, you stir me within,
Despite many gods, you lie steeped in sin,
Fearing the judgment of gods that are stone;
I declare unto you the God that's 'unknown.'
O city of Athens, though a babbler, I be
The Christ of the Cross is no stranger to me.
Your learned have the inscription in stone,
But have not regarded the God that's 'unknown.'
O city of Prophets, with no regard for my plea.
I stretch out my wings a covert to be -
Resisting me surely, I leave you alone;
I weep for your sorrow, O desolate one.
O Jerusalem city, your Redeemer, I'll be,
You'll own me as King, When again Me you see.
Now scattered - not gathered - no brood of my own,
I am the Messiah that you have disowned.
-Elizabeth Wallace Morehead-
Copyright owned by the
Wallace and Morehead
families.
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