 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
193
June 7 SUMMER'S PARABLE
“The Lord is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all
his works.”—Ps. cxlv. 9.
I see the ripple on the corn
Which runneth gaily to and fro,
And watch the rising of the morn
Or hear the noon-tide breezes blow;
The shadow rests on belfry walls,
I mark the nodding grasses raise
Their pennons when the wild wind calls,
And song-birds join the general praise.
Which runneth gaily to and fro,
And watch the rising of the morn
Or hear the noon-tide breezes blow;
The shadow rests on belfry walls,
I mark the nodding grasses raise
Their pennons when the wild wind calls,
And song-birds join the general praise.
The blossom blushes as it bows
Its head more humbly, and the dew
In pearls and diamonds decks those brows
It washes every night anew;
The keel grates on the golden beach,
The blue smoke riseth as a prayer,
And far off on the upland reach
Through red earth gleams the silver share.
Its head more humbly, and the dew
In pearls and diamonds decks those brows
It washes every night anew;
The keel grates on the golden beach,
The blue smoke riseth as a prayer,
And far off on the upland reach
Through red earth gleams the silver share.
I hear the pulsing of the wheels
And mighty springs that work Thy Law,
Father, and all my spirit kneels
To Thine in knowledge that is awe;
O Thou art beautiful and blest
In every flower and every tree,
For what is nature but Thy Breast
Which draws Thy children close to Thee?
And mighty springs that work Thy Law,
Father, and all my spirit kneels
To Thine in knowledge that is awe;
O Thou art beautiful and blest
In every flower and every tree,
For what is nature but Thy Breast
Which draws Thy children close to Thee?
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