And all alarms
Will melt in peace when, safe from tempest's rage
My wind-tossed ship has found its anchorage.
A Song of Rest.
The world may rage without,
Quiet is here;
Statesmen may toil and shout,
Cynics may sneer;
The great world--let it go--
June warmth be March's snow,
I care not--be it so
Since I am here.
Time was when war's alarm
Called for a fear,
When sorrow's seeming harm
Hastened a tear;
Naught care I now what foe
Threatens, for scarce I know
How the year's seasons go
Since I am here.
This is my resting-place
Holy and dear,
Where Pain's dejected face
May not appear.
This is the world to me,
Earth's woes I will not see
But rest contentedly
Since I am here.
Is't your voice chiding, Love,
My mild career?
My meek abiding, Love,
Daily so near?
"Danger and loss" to me?
Ah, Sweet, I fear to see
No loss but loss of _Thee_
And I am here.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29