SEEDTIME AND HARVEST.
Within my arms my lord becomes a little child,
And softly as a nurseling babe on mother's breast
Lays on my shoulder his dear head, and sinks to rest
With limbs relaxed, in my embrace to sleep beguiled.
And softly as a nurseling babe on mother's breast
Lays on my shoulder his dear head, and sinks to rest
With limbs relaxed, in my embrace to sleep beguiled.
With equal breath my bosom rocks his cradled head,
My pulses learn in true accord with joy to beat.
Straight grow the sombre winding ways, and at my feet
My narrow path with starry flowers like heaven is spread.
My pulses learn in true accord with joy to beat.
Straight grow the sombre winding ways, and at my feet
My narrow path with starry flowers like heaven is spread.
And I who am so little worth, so poor and weak,
Alone about the source of life my watch can keep,
Hold in my arms the labouring world subdued to sleep,
As in the hollow of my hand I hold his cheek.
Alone about the source of life my watch can keep,
Hold in my arms the labouring world subdued to sleep,
As in the hollow of my hand I hold his cheek.
62
