POETRY
THE LAMB
CRIMSON and gold, my brother Jan, The rarest green and the proudest blue, Here on the palette, my brother Jan, Is colour and colour spread for you, And the skilful brush has made them yield Light and glory upon the field.
I work and I work, my brother Jan, And I have won for this northern town As sweet an essence of summer eve As the south itself has hardly known ; And see how all my worshippers pace With proper pomp to the holy place 1
I work and I work, my brother Jan, And the calm assembling peoples prove, Under His high red image there, The comforting joy of His victor love ; And, Jan, my own warm heart is lost In Hallelujahs with this host. T. D. KElmatcr.