AN APPEAL FOR MELROSE.
WHERE wild flowers grow and forest trees are waving
Their perfumed boughs so sweet and ever green,
Where gurgling brooks their mossy banks are laving,
And song-birds build 'neath every leafy screen,
Fain would we rear—O listen to our story,
All ye who feel immortal longings now,
All ye who hope to reign with Him in glory,
And wear the crown of light upon your brow—
Their perfumed boughs so sweet and ever green,
Where gurgling brooks their mossy banks are laving,
And song-birds build 'neath every leafy screen,
Fain would we rear—O listen to our story,
All ye who feel immortal longings now,
All ye who hope to reign with Him in glory,
And wear the crown of light upon your brow—
Fain would we rear a temple for the weary,
Who've travelled far, borne down by grief and care,
Who've dragged their chains through wildernesses dreary,
That they may find new life, new light in prayer;
That they may tread where thorns no more are growing,
To rend their bosoms and disturb their rest,
And drink instruction from those founts o'erflowing,
At last in robes of righteousness be dressed.
Who've travelled far, borne down by grief and care,
Who've dragged their chains through wildernesses dreary,
That they may find new life, new light in prayer;
That they may tread where thorns no more are growing,
To rend their bosoms and disturb their rest,
And drink instruction from those founts o'erflowing,
At last in robes of righteousness be dressed.
In vales of beauty still our flocks are feeding,
And herds are grazing round our lofty hills,
And sylvan scenes continually are pleading,
Exalting thought above life's coming ills.
And herds are grazing round our lofty hills,
And sylvan scenes continually are pleading,
Exalting thought above life's coming ills.
