Zinzendorff and Other Poems/"He gathereth the lambs with his arm, and carrieth them in his bosom"

by Lydia Huntley Sigourney

"He gathereth the lambs with his arm, and carrieth them in his bosom."—Isaiah.

On the death of a member of the Infant School.

Lamb! in a clime of verdure,
    Thy favored lot was cast,
No serpent 'mid thy flow'ry food,
    Upon thy fold no blast,—
Thine were the chrystal fountains,
    And thine a cloudless sky,
Amid thy sports a star of love
    Thy playmate brother's eye.

Approving guides caress'd thee
    Where'er thy footsteps rov'd;
The ear that heard thee bless'd thee,
    The eye that saw thee lov'd;
Yet life hath snares and sorrows
    From which no friend can save,
And evils might have thronged thy path
    Which thou wert weak to brave.

There is a Heavenly Shepherd,
    And ere thy infant charms
Had caught the tinge of care or woe
    He call'd thee to his arms,
And though the shadowy valley,
    With Death's dark frown was dim,
Light cheer'd the stormy passage,
    And thou art safe with Him.