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sylvan and sacred. By the Rev. Richard Wilton

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GRACE.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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3

GRACE.

The snowdrop round it throws
A bright and cheery smile,
But lingers like the snows
A very little while.
The violet lifts its head
And sweetly looks around,
But soon its bloom is shed,
Its fragrance is not found.
The yellow primrose peeps
In many a sheltered lane,
But soon to darkness creeps:
We seek its light in vain.

4

Not so with Heavenly Grace:
Wherever it takes root,
It holds its steadfast place
And blossoms into fruit.
Its vesture is Divine;
A snowdrop white and fair,
Grace comes from Heaven to shine
In this terrestrial air.
But still it keeps its eye
Fixed on yon arch of blue,
And catches from the sky
A soft celestial hue.
And soon it will behold
Awaiting it above
A crown of lustrous gold
Wreathed with immortal love.

5

Lord, plant Thy grace in me;
So all the world will own,
When once the flower they see
That Thou the seed hast sown.