Synopsis

THE Year of the Sorrows went out with great wind: Lift up, lift up, O broken hearts, your Lord is kind, And He shall call His flock home where no storms be Into a sheltered haven out of sound of the sea. There shall be bright sands there and a milken hill, They shall lie in the sun there and drink their fill, They shall have dew and shade there and grass to the knee, Safe in a sheltered haven out of sound of the sea. He shall bind their wounds up and their tears shall cease: They shall have sweetest pillows and a bed of ease. Come up, come up and hither, O little flock, saith He, Ye shall have sheltered havens out of sound of the sea. The first day of New Year strewed the sea with dead. Lift up, lift up, O broken heart and hanging head! The Lord walks on the waters and a Shepherd is He They shall have sheltered havens out of sound of the sea.