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Title: Unfinished Fragments
Author: Frances Ridley Havergal [
More Titles by Havergal]
THE Master will guide the weary feet,
Choosing for each, and choosing aright
The noontide rest in the summer heat:
For some the glory of Alpine height,
For some the breezes fresh and free
And the changeful charm of wave and sea
For some the hush and the soothing spells
Of harvest fields and woodland dells;
For some it may be the quiet gloom
Of the suffering couch in shaded room.
Master, our Master, oh let it be
That our leisure and rest be still with Thee,
With Thee and for Thee each sunny hour
. . . . . .
In pencil, May 1879.
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'ARISE, depart! for this is not your rest!'
The Voice fell strangely on the sleeping fold,
As fell the starlight's quivering gold
Upon the dusky lake's untroubled breast,
And yet the Shepherd's hand had led them there,
And made them to lie down amid the pastures fair.
'Arise ye, and depart!' The morning rays
Lit up the emerald slope and crystal pool,
Sweet sustenance for many days,
And quiet resting places, calm and cool.
They knew not why, nor whither, yet they went!
His own hand put them forth, and so they were content
And so they followed Him, they could not stay
When He had risen, the Shepherd good and fair
In pencil, May 1879.
[The end]
Frances Ridley Havergal's poem: Unfinished Fragments
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