200
sabbath days.
The little ones, who went
By twos, in larger footprints, up the lane,
Paused as the shepherd bent
Crossed the worn threshold, leaning on his cane:
While the rich orchard-scent
Passed in and mingled with the psalm's clear strain.
By twos, in larger footprints, up the lane,
Paused as the shepherd bent
Crossed the worn threshold, leaning on his cane:
While the rich orchard-scent
Passed in and mingled with the psalm's clear strain.
The sun, slow moving round,
Looked from the bending heavens approval sweet.
There was no jarring sound;
The hours took off the sandals from their feet,
For earth seemed holy ground,—
A temple where the soul her God could meet.
Looked from the bending heavens approval sweet.
There was no jarring sound;
The hours took off the sandals from their feet,
For earth seemed holy ground,—
A temple where the soul her God could meet.
But now the Sabbath sun
Shines quick and keen, as in the hurrying week;
And earthly noises stun
The spirit that would heaven in silence seek.
The praise for hire is done,
While their own thoughts the people think and speak.
Shines quick and keen, as in the hurrying week;
And earthly noises stun
The spirit that would heaven in silence seek.
The praise for hire is done,
While their own thoughts the people think and speak.
'T is true that every hour
Is sacred to the earnest worshipper,
Is sacred to the earnest worshipper,
