He held the lantern, stooping low,So low that none could miss the way,And yet so high, to bring in sightThat picture fair--the world's great Light,That gazing up--the lamp between--The hand that held it scarce was seen.He held the pitcher--stooping lowTo lips of little ones below, Then raised it to the weary saintAnd bade him drink … Continue reading Poem: The Preacher →