KATHARINE TYNAN HINKSON
All in the April morning,April airs were abroad,The sheep with their little lambsPass’d me by on the road.The sheep with their little lambsPass’d me by on the road;All in an April eveningI thought on the Lamb of God.The lambs were weary and cryingWith a weak human cry,I thought on the Lamb of GodGoing meekly to die.Up in the blue, blue mountainsDewy pastures are sweet:Rest for the little bodies,Rest for the little feet.Rest for the Lamb of GodUp on the hill-top green,Only a cross of shameTwo 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.
All in the April morning,April airs were abroad,The sheep with their little lambsPass’d me by on the road.The sheep with their little lambsPass’d me by on the road;All in an April eveningI thought on the Lamb of God.The lambs were weary and cryingWith a weak human cry,I thought on the Lamb of GodGoing meekly to die.Up in the blue, blue mountainsDewy pastures are sweet:Rest for the little bodies,Rest for the little feet.Rest for the Lamb of GodUp on the hill-top green,Only a cross of shameTwo 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.
All in the April morning,April airs were abroad,The sheep with their little lambsPass’d me by on the road.
All in the April morning,
April airs were abroad,
The sheep with their little lambs
Pass’d me by on the road.
The sheep with their little lambsPass’d me by on the road;All in an April eveningI thought on the Lamb of God.
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 cryingWith a weak human cry,I thought on the Lamb of GodGoing meekly to die.
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 mountainsDewy pastures are sweet:Rest for the little bodies,Rest for the little feet.
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 GodUp on the hill-top green,Only a cross of shameTwo stark crosses between.
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.
All in the April evening,
April airs were abroad;
I saw the sheep with their lambs,
And thought on the Lamb of God.