 | The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal |  |
[‘Arise, depart! for this is not your rest!’]
‘Arise, depart! for this is not your rest!’
The Voice fell strangely on the sleeping fold,
As fell the starlight's quivering gold
Upon the dusky lake's untroubled breast,
And yet the Shepherd's hand had led them there,
And made them to lie down amid the pastures fair.
The Voice fell strangely on the sleeping fold,
As fell the starlight's quivering gold
Upon the dusky lake's untroubled breast,
And yet the Shepherd's hand had led them there,
And made them to lie down amid the pastures fair.
‘Arise ye, and depart!’ The morning rays
Lit up the emerald slope and crystal pool,
Sweet sustenance for many days,
And quiet resting places, calm and cool.
They knew not why, nor whither, yet they went!
His own hand put them forth, and so they were content.
Lit up the emerald slope and crystal pool,
Sweet sustenance for many days,
And quiet resting places, calm and cool.
They knew not why, nor whither, yet they went!
His own hand put them forth, and so they were content.
And so they followed Him, they could not stay
When He had risen, the Shepherd good and fair [OMITTED]
When He had risen, the Shepherd good and fair [OMITTED]
| The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal | |