THE PRISONER OF THE LORD.
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THE PRISONER OF THE LORD.
Psalm cxlvi. 8. Sol. Song ii. 14.
"Many are reaping the harvest-fields,
And I lie here alone,
Counting the time by the dreary night:
Oh, when will the day be gone?
And I lie here alone,
Counting the time by the dreary night:
Oh, when will the day be gone?
"Some lead the flock to the mountain-height,
And some to the dewy lawn;
And the fishers their nets from the silvery tide,
The weight of their spoil have drawn;
And some to the dewy lawn;
And the fishers their nets from the silvery tide,
The weight of their spoil have drawn;
"But I lie here with my yearning heart,
On labor I long to share;
My lattice is dark, and heavy my chain,
And fetters I still must wear."
On labor I long to share;
My lattice is dark, and heavy my chain,
And fetters I still must wear."
The plaint had ceased from the maiden's lips,
When over the mountains spread
A ray more bright than the morning star;
It gleamed on a scroll unread.
When over the mountains spread
A ray more bright than the morning star;
It gleamed on a scroll unread.
A scroll that told of a Father's love,
Of His might, His way, and His will,
Of the faithful Friend who never forsakes,
The Master who loves her still.
Of His might, His way, and His will,
Of the faithful Friend who never forsakes,
The Master who loves her still.
