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                 Poems by Mary Baker Eddy                  41


  	                                LINES 

 1	     Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer. 
  	                                                                             — Moore. 

 3	    WAS that fold for the lambkin soft
  	        virtue's repose,
  	    Where the weary and earth-
 6	        stricken lay down their woes, — 
  	    When the fountain and leaflet are frozen and
  	        sere,
 9	    And the mountains more friendless, — their
  	        home is not here? 

  	    When the herd had forsaken, and left them
12	        to stray
  	    From the green sunny slopes of the woodland
  	        away;
15	    Where the music of waters had fled to the sea,
  	    And this life but one given to suffer and be? 

  	    Was it then thou didst call them to banish
18	        all pain,
  	    And the harpstring, just breaking, reecho
  	        again
21	    To a strain of enchantment that flowed as
  	        the wave,
  	    Where they waited to welcome the murmur
24	        it gave? 
 
42            Poems by Mary Baker Eddy


 1	    Oh, there's never a shadow where sunshine
  	        is not,
 3	    And never the sunshine without a dark spot;
  	    Yet there's one will be victor, for glory and
  	        fame,
 6	    Without heart to define them, were only a
  	        name! 

  	      Lynn, Mass., February 19, 1868.