Page:Poems Shipton.djvu/38

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I cried, "Oh, anything but this
 Hadst Thou but chosen, Lord!
That brook had sweeter songs for me
 Than any summer bird."

He eluded not, that Husbandman,
 But whispered, while I mourned,
"Only believe!"and then I thought
 My little brook returned.
It soothed me with an angel tongue,
 And stilled my falling tear:
"O dear one!"thus it seemed to sing,
 "Rejoice I am not here!

"My voice rings in thy future home,
 And Jesus loves the strain;
Oh, never, never wish me back
 'Mid earthly scenes again.
No summer heat can reach me there,
 No winter's frost or snow;
And radiant in the light of life
 My rippling wavelets flow.

"Not lost for thee the silver stream,
 Not dumb my summer song;
Beyond the Jordan's wave it flows
 Far fairer fields among,