A MEMORY OF LABOUR DAY, 1941

Otago Witness, Issue 3015, 27 December 1911, Page 70

A MEMORY OF LABOUR DAY, 1941

Woe, pathetic, lost lambkin, Round my heart it seemed to cling, Its very helplessness the thing That drew it there; Its native innocence did bring A charm so rare. They raised o'er me high-minded horn For tending creature so forlorn, As if I were a being born Bereft of wit, And only for the shafts of scorn And laughter fit. And one, with doubtless good intent, Viewed seriously the incident— Said that the rescue was well meanl—'Twais kind, he knew; But tli en, perchance, I would repent, And, too late, rue. Suggested he, in terms most plain, Not only was my oare most vain, And that a needless task was ta'en—'Twins fraught with risk; And that, mia-ybe, I would, amain, Peel law's band brisk. But naught to me was aught they said— The shake of worldly wisdom's head; It was enough that pity led— That mercy drew; M'ethought my duty plain I read— Naught else would "do. Yet one was there, right well, I know, Who felt the sympathetic glow That has its spring in the outflow From Heaven above, And which vast Nature's realm doth show— A Father's love. Shepherd Divine! Thy iiw who gave, Us from the second death to save— Redeeming- us from that dread grave— Sin's rightful doom; Grant us Thy guiding Light, we crave, And baaiish gloom. Oh, Thou Great Shepherd of the sheep, Lead us o'er life's mountains steep— Let Thy pow'r from evil keep Until we come, Where nor sin nor death may creep— The Father's Home. —J. D. B.