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98
Horatius Bonar.
31ST JULY, 1889.
Singer, at length thy travelling days are done,
And thou who heard'st the voice of Jesus say,
“Come unto me and rest,” hast ceased thy lay,
Into the land of silence thou hast gone!
But still thy pure harp's high and holy tone—
Harp strung in stern old covenanter's day—
Sounds out, to cheer the pilgrim on his way
With echoes of the song about the Throne.
And thou who heard'st the voice of Jesus say,
“Come unto me and rest,” hast ceased thy lay,
Into the land of silence thou hast gone!
But still thy pure harp's high and holy tone—
Harp strung in stern old covenanter's day—
Sounds out, to cheer the pilgrim on his way
With echoes of the song about the Throne.
Still wheresoe'er the children's hymn may rise,
Or the great congregation's voice upswell
In plenitude of praise, thy clear heart's chord
Shall vibrate, till we hear in Paradise
How all on earth, in sea, and Heaven that dwell,
With one loud Alleluia bless the Lord.
Or the great congregation's voice upswell
In plenitude of praise, thy clear heart's chord
Shall vibrate, till we hear in Paradise
How all on earth, in sea, and Heaven that dwell,
With one loud Alleluia bless the Lord.
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