72
PENCIL-MARKS.
With feet oft bruised among its sharp flints, duly
He turned aside to gather simples here,
And lay up cordials for his faintness—truly
Now will I track his steps and be of cheer.
He turned aside to gather simples here,
And lay up cordials for his faintness—truly
Now will I track his steps and be of cheer.
And wearied, by this wayside fountain's brink
He sat to rest, and as it then befell,
The stone was rolled away, he stooped to drink
The waters springing up from life's clear well.
He sat to rest, and as it then befell,
The stone was rolled away, he stooped to drink
The waters springing up from life's clear well.
And oft upon his journey faring sadly
He communed with this Teacher from on high,
And meeting words of promise, meekly, gladly,
Went on his way rejoicing—so will I!
He communed with this Teacher from on high,
And meeting words of promise, meekly, gladly,
Went on his way rejoicing—so will I!
