Isaiah_40-8: The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever

By Cool Siloam’s Shady Rill.

How Sweet The Lily Grows!
How Sweet The Breath,
Beneath The Hill, Of Sharon’s Dewy Rose!

Lo! Such The Child Whose Early Feet
The Paths Of Peace Have Trod,
Whose Secret Heart With Influence Sweet
Is Upward Drawn To God.

By Cool Siloam’s Shady Rill
The Lily Must Decay,
The Rose That Blooms Beneath The Hill
Must Shortly Fade Away.

O Thou Whose Infant Feet Were Found
Within Thy Father’s Shrine,
Whose Years, With Changeless
Virtue Crowned,
Were All Alike Divine.

Dependent On Thy Bounteous Breath,
We Seek Thy Grace Alone,
In Childhood, Manhood, Age,
And Death,
To Keep Us Still Thine Own. Amen!

Isaiah_40-8: The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever

[If You Were Blessed By This Hymn…