70
POEMS.
Go, tell it to Jesus,
Ne'er closed is His ear;
E'en the cry of the raven
He deigneth to hear.
His pity will soothe thee,
His pardon shall save,
His grace bid thee triumph
O'er death and the grave
Go, tell it to Jesus.
Ne'er closed is His ear;
E'en the cry of the raven
He deigneth to hear.
His pity will soothe thee,
His pardon shall save,
His grace bid thee triumph
O'er death and the grave
Go, tell it to Jesus.
SILENCE SPEAKING.
There needs no outward sign, no visible token,
To shadow forth my heart's great love for thee;
The language of the soul can ne'er be spoken
Save in low murmurs—like the deep, deep sea!
To shadow forth my heart's great love for thee;
The language of the soul can ne'er be spoken
Save in low murmurs—like the deep, deep sea!
