 | Wood-notes and Church-bells |  |
176
THE LAMBS IN THE CHURCHYARD.
Beside the porch, amid the graves,
The happy lambs repose or play,
Where ivy round the dial waves,
And texts adorn the headstones grey.
The happy lambs repose or play,
Where ivy round the dial waves,
And texts adorn the headstones grey.
What though the circling hours may speed,
And dust of ages sleep below,
Those happy lambs no shadows heed,
Nor feel a pang, nor fear a woe.
And dust of ages sleep below,
Those happy lambs no shadows heed,
Nor feel a pang, nor fear a woe.
Sweet, living parable of peace,
Which points to that enclosure blest,
Where worldly cares for ever cease,
And weary hearts for ever rest.
Which points to that enclosure blest,
Where worldly cares for ever cease,
And weary hearts for ever rest.
177
Time casts no fleeting shadow there,
Nor sin disturbs the tranquil scene;
In Heaven the skies are always fair,
The fields of bliss are all serene.
Nor sin disturbs the tranquil scene;
In Heaven the skies are always fair,
The fields of bliss are all serene.
Would we those peaceful pastures gain
And in that blest enclosure dwell,
To sin, and to sin's shadow, pain,
Bidding a long and glad farewell?
And in that blest enclosure dwell,
To sin, and to sin's shadow, pain,
Bidding a long and glad farewell?
Then we must trust His holy Name,
And we must plead His precious Blood,
Who like a Lamb Himself became,
And meekly as our Surety stood.
And we must plead His precious Blood,
Who like a Lamb Himself became,
And meekly as our Surety stood.
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