Page:Poems Shipton.djvu/41

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Look to the plains of Paradise
 Where joys immortal beam;
There thou wilt find thy bud a flower,
 Thy rippling brook a stream.

"One flows in anthems rich in praise
 In heaven's eternal rest;
Thy folded bud will blossom fair
 On Jesu's tender breast.
Soon shall the singing of the birds
 Rejoice thy listening ear;
The shadows lengthening in the sun
 Disclose the dawn is near."

Now on I go, and bless the spot
 Where once the brooklet ran,
And trace the wisdom and the love
 That led the Husbandman
To lend awhile the pleasant plant
 That graced my garden-ground;
And those, the dearest to my heart,
 Christ hath the fairest found.