The Christian Year by John Keble
page 84 of 300 (28%)
page 84 of 300 (28%)
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Along the mountain ledges green
The scattered sheep at will may glean The Desert's spicy stores: The while, with undivided heart, The shepherd talks with God apart, And, as he talks, adores. Ye too, who tend Christ's wildering flock, Well may ye gather round the rock That once was Sion's hill: To watch the fire upon the mount Still blazing, like the solar fount, Yet unconsuming still. Caught from that blaze by wrath Divine, Lost branches of the once-loved vine, Now withered, spent, and sere, See Israel's sons, like glowing brands, Tossed wildly o'er a thousand lands For twice a thousand year. God will not quench nor slay them quite, But lifts them like a beacon-light The apostate Church to scare; Or like pale ghosts that darkling roam, Hovering around their ancient home, But find no refuge there. Ye blessed Angels! if of you There be, who love the ways to view |
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