We prayed that unto you, dear,

God's best gifts might be given;

We wished to strew for you, dear,

Earth's paths with Heaven.

We planned your life a May-day

When young flowers should be bom,

That you might stray the smooth way

Of gold-robed Morn.

We dared more than we knew, dear;

When half God's gifts were given,

He answered all our prayers, dear—

He gave you Heaven.

The shepherd is dead men tell me,

He died upon a tree

When Springtide was befalling

Field-flowers in Galilee;

But whenever the wind is blowing

Straight out from the East or West,

I can hear his brave voice calling,

"Come after me. Come after me.

Rise up, rise up and follow me—

I am Christ, thy rest."

Then, rising I quickly gird me,

For wherever Christ may be,

The land where he is staying

He turns to Galilee;

Through whose vales when the wind is blowing

From meadows his feet have blest,

He aye calls to his loved ones saying,

Come after me. Come after me.

Rise up, rise up and follow me—

Where I am, is rest."

I seek him in every day,

I travel land and sea

From dawn till dusk is falling

And God hangs lamps for me.

But whenever the wind is blowing,

'Tis then that I find him best;

For I hear his brave voice calling,

In seeking me, thou followest me;

Then where thou art is Galilee,

And I am—thy rest."