And the angels echoed around the throne, "Rejoice, for the Lord brings back his own!" Elizabeth Cecilia Clephane [1830–1869]

LOST BUT FOUND

I WAS a wandering sheep,

I did not love the fold;

I did not love my Shepherd's voice,

I would not be controlled.

I was a wayward child,

I did not love my home,

I did not love my Father's voice,
I loved afar to roam.

The Shepherd sought his sheep;
The Father sought his child;
They followed me o'er vale and hill,
O'er deserts waste and wild.
They found me nigh to death,
Famished, and faint, and lone;

They bound me with the bands of love;
They saved the wandering one.

They spoke in tender love,

They raised my drooping head;

They gently closed my bleeding wounds,

My fainting soul they fed.

They washed my filth away,

They made me clean and fair;

They brought me to my home in peace,

The long-sought wanderer.

Jesus my Shepherd is,

'Twas he that loved my soul;

'Twas he that washed me in his blood,

'Twas he that made me whole;

'Twas he that sought the lost,
That found the wandering sheep;
'Twas he that brought me to the fold,
'Tis he that still doth keep.

I was a wandering sheep,

I would not be controlled;

But now I love my Shepherd's voice,

I love, I love the fold.

I was a wayward child,

I once preferred to roam;

But now I love my Father's voice,

I love, I love his home.

Horatius Bonar [1808-1889]

STAINS

THE three ghosts on the lonesome road

Spake each to one another,

"Whence came that stain about your mouth

No lifted hand may cover?"

"From eating of forbidden fruit,

Brother, my brother.”

The three ghosts on the sunless road

Spake each to one another,

"Whence came that red burn on your foot

No dust or ash may cover?"

"I stamped a neighbor's hearth-flame out, Brother, my brother."

The three ghosts on the windless road

Spake each to one another,

"Whence came that blood upon your hand

No other hand may cover?"

"From breaking of a woman's heart, Brother, my brother."

"Yet on the earth clean men we walked,
Glutton and Thief and Lover;
White flesh and fair it hid our stains

That no man might discover." "Naked the soul goes up to God,

Brother, my brother."

A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER

WILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done;
For I have more.

Wilt thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done;
For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
But swear by Thyself that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine as He shines now and heretofore:

And having done that, Thou hast done;

I fear no more.

John Donne [1573-1631]

SHEEP AND LAMBS

ALL in the April evening,

April airs were abroad;
The sheep with their little lambs
Passed me by on the road.

The sheep with their little lambs
Passed me by on the road;

All in the 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.

But 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.

Katharine Tynan [1861

"ALL'S WELL!"

EIGHT bells! Eight bells! their clear tone tells

The midnight hour is here,

And as they cease, these words of peace

Fall gently on my ear:

"All's well! All's well!"

Fond thoughts fly far, where loved ones are,
Though distant, ever near,

From those dear homes the echo comes,
Our longing hearts to cheer:

"All's well! All's well!"

Swift through the deep our course we keep,

To shores unseen we steer,

No thought of ill our souls shall chill,

Nor wind nor wave we fear:

"All's well! All's well!"

Thus o'er life's sea our voyage may be
A pathway lone and drear,
Through tempest loud and sorrow's cloud,
Faith still shall whisper near:

"All's well! All's well!"

And when for me, earth, sky, and sea
Shall fade and disappear,

May this sweet note still downward float,

From some undying sphere:

"All's well! All's well!"

William Allen Butler [1825-1902]

LIVING WATERS

THERE are some hearts like wells, green-mossed and deep

As ever Summer saw;

And cool their water is,—yea, cool and sweet;

But you must come to draw.

They hoard not, yet they rest in calm content,

And not unsought will give;

They can be quiet with their wealth unspent,

So self-contained they live.

And there are some like springs, that bubbling burst

To follow dusty ways,

And run with offered cup to quench his thirst

Where the tired traveller strays;

That never ask the meadows if they want

What is their joy to give;

Unasked, their lives to other life they grant,

So self-bestowed they live!

And One is like the ocean, deep and wide,

Wherein all waters fall;

That girdles the broad earth, and draws the tide,

Feeding and bearing all;

That broods the mists, that sends the clouds abroad,

That takes, again to give;

Even the great and loving heart of God,

Whereby all love doth live.

Caroline Spencer [18

ONE BY ONE

ONE by one the sands are flowing,
One by one the moments fall;
Some are coming, some are going;
Do not strive to grasp them all.