"Ho! ye that rest beneath the Rock
On pastures greenly growing,
Or roam at will, Christ's favored flock,
By waters gently flowing:
Hear ye, upon the desert air,
A voice of woe come crying,
While, cold upon the barren moor,
Christ's little lambs are dying.
"Go, feed my lambs!" the Shepherd's call
Comes down from realms of glory,—
"Go, feed my lambs, and bring them all
From moor and mountain hoary!"
Fast falls the night, the bleak winds blow
Across the desert dreary:
Great Shepherd, at thy call we'll go,
And bring the wanderers weary."
Apply healing to other minds diseased, and you will not fail to heal your own. The law of impenetrability obtains in mind as well as in matter. Sorrow cannot wholly fill the heart that is occupied with others' welfare.—
