 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
56
Father and Child
As up and down a shady place
I walked with melancholy pace,
A cloud upon my heart and face
Of sin and sadness;
Suddenly flashing on the view
My little boy in white and blue
Ran tow'rds me up the avenue
With look of gladness.
I walked with melancholy pace,
A cloud upon my heart and face
Of sin and sadness;
Suddenly flashing on the view
My little boy in white and blue
Ran tow'rds me up the avenue
With look of gladness.
And all a father's love leapt out
Instinctively, and clung about
The child, subduing fear and doubt
With tender yearning:
As if he had been sent to prove
By living sign that higher Love
Which waits and watches from above
Each son's returning.
Instinctively, and clung about
The child, subduing fear and doubt
With tender yearning:
As if he had been sent to prove
By living sign that higher Love
Which waits and watches from above
Each son's returning.
Who made the eye, shall He not see?
The ear, shall He not hear? And He
Who, in creating, gave to me
A father's feeling,
Shall He not feel?—and kindly greet
A son that weeps before His feet—
With kiss of reconcilement sweet
His pardon sealing.
The ear, shall He not hear? And He
Who, in creating, gave to me
A father's feeling,
Shall He not feel?—and kindly greet
A son that weeps before His feet—
With kiss of reconcilement sweet
His pardon sealing.
For one constraining cause alone
That child was dear—he was my own—
Spontaneously my love had grown—
And how much rather
Shall I, “the work of His own hand,”
The yearning love of God command—
Can He my prayers and tears withstand
Who is my Father!
That child was dear—he was my own—
Spontaneously my love had grown—
And how much rather
57
The yearning love of God command—
Can He my prayers and tears withstand
Who is my Father!
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