 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
“Till my Change come”
“If a man die, shall he live again? All the days
of my appointed time I will wait, till my change
come.”—Job xiv. 14.
“Till my change come”—with folded wing
My soul will wait its Lord and King,
While my dust rests in hope below;
Nor will it heed the sun or snow,
The falling leaf, or flower of Spring.
My soul will wait its Lord and King,
While my dust rests in hope below;
Nor will it heed the sun or snow,
The falling leaf, or flower of Spring.
Above me holy bells will ring,
And birds their roundelays will sing,
Through the set days of gloom or glow,
“Till my change come.”
And birds their roundelays will sing,
Through the set days of gloom or glow,
“Till my change come.”
The ivy its festoons will bring,
And waving boughs their shadows fling;
The rain will beat, the wind will blow,
But ah, in Whom I trust I know,
And my calm soul to Him will cling,
“Till my change come.”
And waving boughs their shadows fling;
The rain will beat, the wind will blow,
But ah, in Whom I trust I know,
And my calm soul to Him will cling,
“Till my change come.”
| Lyra Pastoralis | |