the story of two lives.
19
As I one night was pacing to and fro,
A woman met and spoke to me; though low
Her voice, her words had power to probe, yet heal,
Mild, yet incisive, bright and strong as steel.
She told me she had been to the far East,
Had traced the steps of each Evangelist—
Had stood where once stood wide the Temple door,
And where our Jesus spoke, "Go, sin no more."[1]
One eve, she said, as slow the sun went down,
She saw, as there she paused and mused alone,
A shepherd, bearing back into the fold
A little yearling lamb, all starved and cold,
And tired and bleeding, for its truant feet
Had rambled from green paths and meadows sweet
Until it reached the Dead Sea's bitter wave,
Where the foul waters fouler deserts lave;
But there it had been found, and thence brought home
With gentlest care and love—"Thus God says come,
To you; will you not come, my child? for see,
The same Good Shepherd seeks for you and me."
A woman met and spoke to me; though low
Her voice, her words had power to probe, yet heal,
Mild, yet incisive, bright and strong as steel.
She told me she had been to the far East,
Had traced the steps of each Evangelist—
Had stood where once stood wide the Temple door,
And where our Jesus spoke, "Go, sin no more."[1]
One eve, she said, as slow the sun went down,
She saw, as there she paused and mused alone,
A shepherd, bearing back into the fold
A little yearling lamb, all starved and cold,
And tired and bleeding, for its truant feet
Had rambled from green paths and meadows sweet
Until it reached the Dead Sea's bitter wave,
Where the foul waters fouler deserts lave;
But there it had been found, and thence brought home
With gentlest care and love—"Thus God says come,
To you; will you not come, my child? for see,
The same Good Shepherd seeks for you and me."
- ↑ Vide 'Cities of the Past'
