The Good Shepherd with the Kid

He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save.So rang Tertullian's sentence, on the sideOf 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 tideStream 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 'mid ignominy, death, and tombs,She her Good Shepherd's hasty image drew—And on his shoulders, not a lamb, a kid.