Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PROVIDENCE, by PHOEBE CARY

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PROVIDENCE, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Ah! What will become of the lily
Last Line: "are numbered by his love!"
Subject(s): Heaven; Paradise

"AH! what will become of the lily,
When the summer-time is dead?
Must she lay her spotless robes away,
And hide in the dust her head?"

"My child, the hand that bows her head
Can lift it up anew;
And weave another shining robe
Of sunshine and of dew."

"But, father, what will the sparrows do?
Though they chirp so blithe and bold,
When the shelter of the leaves is gone
They must perish with the cold."

"The sparrows are little things, my child,
And the cold is hard to bear;
Yet never one of these shall fall
Without our Father's care."

"But how will the tender lambs be clothed?
For you know the shepherd said,
He must take their fleeces all away,
For us to wear instead."

"They are warm enough to-day, my child,
And so soon their fleeces grow,
They each will have another one
Before they feel the snow."

"I know you will keep me, father;
That I shall be clothed and fed;
But suppose that I were lost from home,
Oh, suppose that you were dead!"

"My child, there is One who seeks you,
No matter where you roam;
And you may not stray so far away,
That He cannot bring you home."

"For you have a better Father,
In a better home above;
And the very hairs of your precious head
Are numbered by His love!"

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