 | Along the trail |  |
THE MESSENGER
(For the Picture by G. F. Watts)
Strong angel of the peace of God,
Not wholly undivined thy mien;
Along the weary path I trod
Thou hast been with me though unseen.
Not wholly undivined thy mien;
Along the weary path I trod
Thou hast been with me though unseen.
103
My hopes have been a mad turmoil,
A clutch and conflict all my life,
The very craft I loved a toil,
And love itself a seed of strife.
A clutch and conflict all my life,
The very craft I loved a toil,
And love itself a seed of strife.
But sometimes in a sudden hour
I have been great with Godlike calm,
As if thy tranquil world of power
Flowed in about me like a psalm.
I have been great with Godlike calm,
As if thy tranquil world of power
Flowed in about me like a psalm.
And peace has fallen on my face,
And stillness on my struggling breath;
And, living, I have known a space
The hush and mastery of Death.
And stillness on my struggling breath;
And, living, I have known a space
The hush and mastery of Death.
Stretch out thy hand upon me, thou
Who comest as the still night comes!
I have not flinched at buffets; now
Let Strife go by, with all his drums.
Who comest as the still night comes!
I have not flinched at buffets; now
Let Strife go by, with all his drums.
1894
| Along the trail | |