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129

FROM CHURCH TO THE SEA

I heard a preacher preach of hell
With tongue that raved right well:
I left the Church and sought the sea,—
Its hand laid hold of me.
The welcoming sea-waves bathed me round
With mystic soothing sound:
The stars shone forth from flameless sky;
I knew hell was a lie.
I knew the preacher was a liar,—
He and his lake of fire:
The cool sweet sea put out his lake;
My worn heart ceased to ache.
The living God was in the sea,—
His hand laid hold of me:
In all the waves that rose and fell
I saw no shadow of hell.

130

Far stretched the boundless hell-less blue;
No hell-flames glittered through:
Above me bent the clear night-sky;
I heard no prisoners' sigh.
The preacher died, and God arose
Sweet in his grand repose:
“Heed not these fools and liars,” he said,
“Whose souls are worse than dead.
“Meet Me by night beside the seas
Or in the wind-waved trees
And I will teach thee line by line
Secrets of love's and mine.”
So God spoke through the sky and sea
That strange great night to me:
And hell-fire ceased for evermore,—
All slavish fear was o'er.