The Mountain Spring And Other Poems

o leave her flowers,
And plucked some roots to tell
Of Eden's happy, sinless bowers,
Where she in bliss did dwell.

Roses and lilies, pansies gay,
Violets with azure eyes,
Her favorites must have been, for they
Seem born in paradise.

And when they drooped, did she not sigh
And kiss their petals fair,
Thinking, "Alas, ye too must die
And in our sorrow share"?

And then perhaps unto her soul
This answer sweet was given,
"Like you we fade and perish here;
For you we'll bloom in heaven."

Roses and lilies are the type
Of him who from above,
The lamb of God, gave up his life,
A sacrifice of love.

He was her hope in those sad hours
Of blight and sure decay;
The sin that drove her from her flowers
His blood could wash away.

COME UNTO ME

"Come unto me!" Ah, gentlest word
E'er breathed in huma