CLASS-BOOK OF ENGLISH POETRY. Senior Division. "OUR FATHER." THE Sabbath sun was setting slow, "Our Father," breathed a voice below- Beyond the earth, beyond the cloud, "Our Father," angels sang aloud "Thy kingdom come," still from the ground That childlike voice did pray; "Thy kingdom come," God's hosts resound, Far up the starry way! "Thy will be done," with little tongue That lisping love implores; "Thy will be done," the angelic throng |