p. 12 | FEED MY SHEEP by Mrs. Merrill E. Gates

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 9, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 23.

FEED MY SHEEP.

By Mrs. Merrill E. Gates

BY MRS. MERRILL E. GATES.

THAT was a narrow street Where trod Thy blessed feet, And that a noisy throng That followed Thee along, And many a one was such We scarce would deign to touch; But Thou wast pressed upon by the unfolded sheep, And is it thus Thou sayest to us, "Oh, if ye love Me, feed My sheep"?

That was a toilsome way, And that a sultry day, When Thou didst, by the well, Of living water tell, And kindly speak to one, As if that one alone, The straying one, of all the world had need most deep, And Thou no thought but to reclaim Thy sheep. And is it thus Thou sayest to us, "Oh, if ye love Me, feed My sheep"?

That was a loveless word, Which, by strange spirit stirred, Forbade the children grace To see Thy shining face; But Thou didst call them near, And smile away their fear; And one such little one the symbol seemed to Thee Of Thy great heavenly kingdom yet to be. And is it thus Thou sayest to us, "Oh, feed My lambs, if ye love Me"?

That was a green hillside, By Galilee's soft tide; And sweet the garden's shade By ancient olives made. We often follow there Thy words of life to share— But, oh, the multitude of thine untended sheep! Speaks there a voice within our spirits deep— Thy voice to us, And speaks it thus, "Oh, if ye love Me, feed My sheep"?

—Advance.