A Judean sunset covers all
And bathes the features of Messiah
With a glory—not a pall.
St. John, who is ever nigh, a
Man who speaks unto the throng,
Of peace and joy through Him
Who doeth all things well; a song
His voice, it is so kindly. Twilight dim
Falls upon them ere they part;
Palm branches strew the ground before
Our Lord, and every grateful heart
Yields to his power for evermore.
And bathes the features of Messiah
With a glory—not a pall.
St. John, who is ever nigh, a
Man who speaks unto the throng,
Of peace and joy through Him
Who doeth all things well; a song
His voice, it is so kindly. Twilight dim
Falls upon them ere they part;
Palm branches strew the ground before
Our Lord, and every grateful heart
Yields to his power for evermore.
Only a Flower.
Between two worn and faded leaves
Of a soiled and tarnished book,
Lay gently pressed, by one who grieves
A bud from shaded nook.
A withered rose, with ribbon tied
About the stiffened stem,
Tells of the loving heart that died,
And a cross and diadem.
Of a soiled and tarnished book,
Lay gently pressed, by one who grieves
A bud from shaded nook.
A withered rose, with ribbon tied
About the stiffened stem,
Tells of the loving heart that died,
And a cross and diadem.
—14—
