Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A COLLECTION OF HYMNS OF THE MORAVIAN BRETHREN: 110, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A COLLECTION OF HYMNS OF THE MORAVIAN BRETHREN: 110, by                    
First Line: What does a bird in cross's air
Last Line: "there is my bed, table and dish, / and all things"
Subject(s): Moravian Brethren


What does a bird in Cross's air,
When it flies up to the Lamb near,
When round the Lamb it moves and sings.
And claps the Ave with its wings?
Dear hearts! look, look and see,
The little bird finds presently
Its nest in the dear cavity,
From whence the Church was dug.
Within the hole, where blood casts rays,
The bird itself entangled has;
And round the castle of the side
Are wound-swans in the canal wide;
There learns the little piper
In th' hole to be a dipper.

My heart with joy, with joy abounds,
I've found the ocean of the wounds;
There I'm a little dove, a fish,
There is my bed, table and dish,
and all things.





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