None of Rotterdam’s quaint streets
The traveler pauses, as there meets
His curious gaze, an ancient pile
With strange device, that for awhile
Absorbs the mind and fills the eye:
Inquiringly he wonders why.
A sculptured goat in front appears,
And underneath “Ten thousand fears”
Inscribed in Dutch—a puzzling phrase,
Oft read by strangers with amaze.
~~~
The story runs that long ago
The town was taken by a foe,
Who cruelly decreed that all
Alike before the sword must fall.
But when the work of death began,
Some had observed there was a plan
Among the soldiers understood,
And that their sign was sprinkled blood.
~~~
When all within a house were slain,
That none might enter there again,
A splash of blood outside the door
Told the next party all was o’er.
Into this house with anxious dread
A thousand of those doomed ones fled:
Well might all faces blanch with fear
As dying shrieks fell on the ear.
With leaden wings the moments flew,
How to escape from death none knew:
Till suddenly a happy thought
Occurred to one—a bleating goat
Beside the kitchen fire was found.
With speed its trembling limbs were bound.
To shed its blood and then to pour
It just outside the open door,
Was a short work most quickly done
(Yet life for all by it was won).
They listened—each with bated breath—
As the rude messengers of death
With reeking blades, and trampling feet,
Came marching onward through their street!
The beat of every pulse stood still,
And through each vein there ran a chill:
Yet were they safely sheltered there,
Blood came between them and despair:
For when the crimson stain was seen
No soldier thought to enter in.
“Ten thousand fears” for them that day
Were quelled—the danger passed away.
They lived because the goat was slain,
To them its death was priceless gain.
And grateful memory designed
The sculptured goat with words combined.
Commemorating through those years
Deliverance from “ten thousand fears.”
~~~
The horrors of that awful day,
Though long gone by, may yet portray
God’s day of vengeance drawing nigh,
When sinners in dismay will cry
Upon the rocks on them to fall,
The hills to form their funeral pall,
Could they but thus escape His eyes
Whose offered grace they now despise.
Rocks, mountains, heedless of their prayer,
Will only echo their despair.
No shadow then, no sheltering place
To hide them from the shining lace
Of Him, the Lamb of God once slain,
Then King of kings returned to reign.
When His dread sentence meets their ears,
“Depart” —ten thousand thousand fears
Will crowd into the sinner’s heart
As from all hope and joy they part.
For swiftly angels hands will bind
Those to eternal fire consigned,
And they, the King hath said, “shall go
Away to everlasting woe!”
Unsaved one, who these lines may read,
Delay no longer, but with speed
Now to the “blood of sprinkling” fly,
‘Tis God Himself invites thee nigh.
For thee the blood of Christ was shed:
For thee in death He bowed His head.
Not to condemn the world He came,
But that salvation through His name
Might be proclaimed to Adam’s race
In this His day of saving grace.
REST ON THAT SIN-ATONING BLOOD,
BELIEVE ON Hum, THEN PEACE WITH GOD
IS THINE, AND LIFE FOR EVERMORE,
Through Jesus who sin’s suffering bore.
No other name in earth and heaven
For guilty sinners can be given.
Trust Him, then own with contrite tears
“He saves from twice ten thousand fears.”