Israel’s babes to their Good Shepherd’s breast
When his voice their tender meekness blest.
Turn thee now, fond mother!
From thy dead, oh, turn!
Linger not, young brother,
Here to dream and mourn:
Only kneel once more around the sod,
Kneel, and bow submitted hearts to God!
EASTER-DAY IN A MOUNTAIN CHURCHYARD.
There is a wakening on the mighty hills,