HOLY Lord Jesus, Thou wilt search till Thou find <br />This lost piece of silver,--this treasure enshrined <br />In casket or bosom, once of such store; <br />Now lying under the dust of Thy floor. <br /> <br />Gentle Lord Jesus, Thou wilt move through the room-- <br />So empty--so desolate! and light up its gloom: <br />The lost piece of silver that no man can see, <br />Merciful Jesus! is beheld clear by Thee. <br /> <br />Defaced and degraded, trampled in the dust, <br />Its superscription Thou knowest still we trust: <br />And Thou wilt uplift it and make it re-shine, <br />For it was silver--pure silver of Thine. <br /> <br />Loving Lord Jesus, Thou wilt come through the dark, <br />When men are all sleeping and no eye can mark. <br />Though 'clean forgotten, like a dead man out of mind,' <br />This lost piece of silver Thou wilt search for--and find.<br /><br />Dinah Maria Mulock Craik<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lost-piece-of-silver/
