 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
Shells from Gennesaret
A few curved, fragile shells,
Fresh from the marge of Galilee's blue lake—
Ah, what sweet echoes haunt their tiny cells,
And gracious thoughts awake;
Fresh from the marge of Galilee's blue lake—
Ah, what sweet echoes haunt their tiny cells,
And gracious thoughts awake;
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What sacred memories crowd
Round the deserted beach from whence they came;
The lonely hills and tideless waves wax loud,
Murmuring One mighty Name.
Round the deserted beach from whence they came;
The lonely hills and tideless waves wax loud,
Murmuring One mighty Name.
Shells such as these once lay
Where footsteps more than mortal paced the shore;
Deemed worthy to be scattered in His way
Who strewed with stars Heaven's floor.
Where footsteps more than mortal paced the shore;
Deemed worthy to be scattered in His way
Who strewed with stars Heaven's floor.
Shells such as these once met
The pressure of His rare Humanity,
When on dry land those glorious feet He set
Which trode the heaving sea.
The pressure of His rare Humanity,
When on dry land those glorious feet He set
Which trode the heaving sea.
'Twas theirs again to hail
Those blessèd steps ere now they soared above—
To kiss the dear marks of each piercing nail
Which rent the feet of Love.
Those blessèd steps ere now they soared above—
To kiss the dear marks of each piercing nail
Which rent the feet of Love.
I look on them and know
That as these orient shells now fill my hand,
Their Maker nineteen hundred years ago
Stood on that hallowed strand.
That as these orient shells now fill my hand,
Their Maker nineteen hundred years ago
Stood on that hallowed strand.
And, like Gennesaret's shells,
I too would grow familiar with His feet,
Would haunt the regions where His Presence dwells
And see His tokens sweet:
I too would grow familiar with His feet,
Would haunt the regions where His Presence dwells
And see His tokens sweet:
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Till, through His grace divine,
I gain some humble nook on Heaen's high shore,
Where His feet wander, and His glories shine,
And His redeemed adore!
I gain some humble nook on Heaen's high shore,
Where His feet wander, and His glories shine,
And His redeemed adore!
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