Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/263

Rh  The home, where erst with buoyant tread She met the lov'd, the lost, the dead, The household voices blended still With the story-telling rill, The valley, where with playmates true She cull'd the strawberry wet with dew, The bower where Love her youthful footsteps led, The sacred hearth-stone where her children grew, The soil where she hath cast The flower-seeds of her hope and seen them bide the blast, These are her soul's deep friends, O'er whom in lone idolatry she bends, And at the parting sound The heart's adhesive tendril shrinking sends As from some shuddering wound Fresh drops of blood, that gushing stir Unutter'd pangs, and ask an Angel-comforter.

 

, thy symbols fade, Cast thy dim types away, Come forth from ancient Error's shade, And hail Messiah's day.

Why haunt with shuddering dread Red Sinai's penal flame? When Calvary lifts a peaceful head, And breathes an angel's claim. 