 | Later poems by John B. Tabb |  |
22
THE BREEZE AT BETHLEHEM
I that have lashed the sea
And from the forest torn the rooted tree,
Come now, my passion spent,
A lowly penitent,
Sweet Child, to Thee.
And from the forest torn the rooted tree,
Come now, my passion spent,
A lowly penitent,
Sweet Child, to Thee.
Alike Thy sovereign will
The strong & weak, O slumbering Babe, fulfil.
As I before Thee now
Shall waves submissive bow,
And storms be still.
The strong & weak, O slumbering Babe, fulfil.
As I before Thee now
Shall waves submissive bow,
And storms be still.
| Later poems by John B. Tabb | |