Sunday, September 6, 2009


I am the Rose of Sharon,

a wild anemone.

As lily among the thorn trees

So is my love to me.

An apple tree among wild trees,

My love is in my sight,

I sit down in his shadows,

His fruit is my delight.

He brought me to his palace,

And to the banquet hall,

To share with me his greatness,

I, who am least of all.

Oh, give me help and comfort,

For I am sick with shame,

Unfit to be his comfort,

Unfit to bear his name.

I charge you, o ye daughters,

Ye roes among the trees,

Stir not my sleeping loved one,

To love me e'er he please.

Hinds Feet on High Places

By: Hannah Hurnard

1 comment:

Deborah said...

De-Lovely! The book is at eye level on my shelf! Do this one more time and I get it down for a re-read!!!**kisskiss** Deb