All flesh is grass, the Scriptures say,
And so through life's brief span we find;
Cut down as in a summer day
Are all of human kind.
Some, while the morning still is fair,
Will fall in youth's sweet op'ning prime;
The heat of mid-day some will bear,
But all lie low in time.
O mournful thought! ah, how to me
It breathes a solemn warning tale!
I soon a broken stem shall be,
Like those that strew the vale.
At early dawn or closing light
The silent hand of death may fall:
Oh, may I learn this lesson right,
So full of truth for all!
7. The Good Shepherd.
I met the Good Shepherd but now on the plain,
As homeward he carried his lost one again:
I marvell'd how gently his burden he bore,
And as he pass'd by me I knelt to adore.
Oh, Shepherd, Good Shepherd, thy wounds they are deep.
The wolves have sore hurt thee in saving thy sheep;
Thy raiment all over with crimson is dyed,
And what is this rent they have made in thy side?
