Poetry

The Good Shepherd With The Kid by Matthew Arnold

Matthew Arnold poems
via The Good Shepherd With The Kid
  _He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save._
  So rang Tertullian's sentence, on the side
  Of that unpitying Phrygian Sect which cried:
  "Him can no fount of fresh forgiveness lave,

  Who sins, once washed by the baptismal wave."--
  So spake the fierce Tertullian. But she sighed,
  The infant Church! of love she felt the tide
  Stream on her from her Lord's yet recent grave.

  And then she smiled; and in the Catacombs,
  With eye suffused but heart inspired true,
  On those walls subterranean, where she hid

  Her head in ignominy, death, and tombs,
  She her good Shepherd's hasty image drew--
  And on his shoulders, not a lamb, a kid.