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Henry Francis Lyte (Генри Фрэнсис Лит)


* * *


There is a safe and secret place,
Beneath the wings divine,
Reserved for all the heirs of grace;
O be that refuge mine!

The least and feeblest there may bide,
Uninjured and unawed;
While thousands fall on every side,
He rests secure in God.

He feeds in pastures, large and fair,
Of love and truth divine,
O child of God, O glory’s heir,
How rich a lot is thine!

A hand almighty to defend,
An ear for every call,
An honored life, a peaceful end,
And heaven to crown it all!



Henry Francis Lyte's other poems:
  1. God of Mercy, God of Grace
  2. Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken
  3. Praise for Thee, Lord, in Zion Waits
  4. Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven
  5. When at Thy Footstool, Lord, I Bend


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Английская поэзия