Classic Poem

C HRIST sat upon the mountain side,
The blue sky overhead,
Beneath, in heaven's own colours dyed,
The lake's still bosom spread.

Some sparrows fluttered through the sky,
A breath the lilies stirred,
Far off a boat went drifting by
With white wings like a bird.

But, heedless of the sea and shore,
Christ turned aside to greet
The weary hearts who came to pour
Their sorrows at His feet.

I ponder o'er the scene so fair
Upon my bended knee,
Until I dream that I am there,
And, lo, Christ looks at me.