174
THE BLIND LAMB.
And the poor little creature pressed so close,
Distracted with delight,
While I dried the brine from his dripping fleece
With my apron soft and white.
Distracted with delight,
While I dried the brine from his dripping fleece
With my apron soft and white.
Close in my arms I gathered him,
More glad than tongue can tell,
And he laid on my shoulder his pretty head,
He knew that all was well.
More glad than tongue can tell,
And he laid on my shoulder his pretty head,
He knew that all was well.
And I thought as I bore him swiftly back,
Content, close folded thus,
Of the Heavenly Father compassionate,
Whose pity shall succor us.
Content, close folded thus,
Of the Heavenly Father compassionate,
Whose pity shall succor us.
I thought of the arms of mercy
That clasp the world about,
And that not one of His children
Shall perish in dread and doubt:
That clasp the world about,
And that not one of His children
Shall perish in dread and doubt:
For He hears the voices that cry to Him,
And near His love shall draw:
With help and comfort He waits for us,
The Light, and the Life, and the Law!
And near His love shall draw:
With help and comfort He waits for us,
The Light, and the Life, and the Law!
