Page:The Easter Gift.pdf/26

18

But death, not sleep, was on those eyes, Beneath the heat declining: O'er glittering sands and cloudless skies The noontide sun was shining.

Far, far away the desert spread; Ah! love is fain to cherish The vainest hopes, but now she said, "Let me not see him perish."

Then spoke the Lord, and at his word Sprang forth a little fountain, Pure, cold as those whose crystal hoard Is in some pine-clad mountain;

And herb and shrub upon the brink Put forth their leaf and blossom; The pelican came down to drink From out its silvery bosom.

O blessed God, thus doth thy power, When, worn and broken-hearted, We sink beneath some evil hour, And deem all hope departed—

Then doth the fountain of thy grace Rise up within the spirit, And we are strengthened for that race Whose prize we shall inherit.