 | From Sunset Ridge |  |
174
WHAT I SAW FROM MY WINDOW
Newport, 1890
The telegraph pole is a mast,
And the cloud is a misty sail;
And yon great gold star is the lantern fast
That tempests cannot pale.
And the cloud is a misty sail;
And yon great gold star is the lantern fast
That tempests cannot pale.
Oh! where does the dream-ship drift,
With my cherished dead on board?
Yon close-shut heaven reveals no rift
Of that country unexplored.
With my cherished dead on board?
Yon close-shut heaven reveals no rift
Of that country unexplored.
But surely on their way
Does Faith, like a lantern, shine,
And blue seas of God's providence
Bear up their bark and mine.
Does Faith, like a lantern, shine,
And blue seas of God's providence
Bear up their bark and mine.
| From Sunset Ridge | |