Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/1080

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The sheep with their little lambs
  Pass'd me by on the road;
All in an April evening
  I thought on the Lamb of God.

The lambs were weary, and crying
  With a weak human cry,
I thought on the Lamb of God
  Going meekly to die.

Up in the blue, blue mountains
  Dewy pastures are sweet:
Rest for the little bodies,
  Rest for the little feet.

Rest for the Lamb of God
  Up on the hill-top green,
Only a cross of shame
  Two stark crosses between.

All in the April evening,
  April airs were abroad;
I saw the sheep with their lambs,
  And thought on the Lamb of God.



FRANCES BANNERMAN


878. An Upper Chamber

I came into the City and none knew me;
  None came forth, none shouted 'He is here!
Not a hand with laurel would bestrew me,
  All the way by which I drew anear—
  Night my banner, and my herald Fear.