Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/1080

 The sheep with their little lambs Pass'd me by on the road; All in an April evening I thought on the Lamb of God.

The lambs were weary, and crying With a weak human cry, I thought on the Lamb of God Going meekly to die.

Up in the blue, blue mountains Dewy pastures are sweet: Rest for the little bodies, Rest for the little feet.

Rest for the Lamb of God Up on the hill-top green, Only a cross of shame Two stark crosses between.

All in the April evening, April airs were abroad; I saw the sheep with their lambs, And thought on the Lamb of God.

FRANCES BANNERMAN

878. An Upper Chamber

I came into the City and none knew me; None came forth, none shouted 'He is here! Not a hand with laurel would bestrew me, All the way by which I drew anear— Night my banner, and my herald Fear.