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The Relief Ship at Twilight

The shore is lined with anchored ships;
Their masts crowd thick against the sky;
The pulsing water lifts and dips,
With ripple gentle as a sigh.
The cities lull their noisy din;
Slowly the weary homeward go;
Steady the freighted tides come in;
The snowy gulls flit to and fro;
All day hard truthless trade has swept
The land, the sea, to compass gain;
And reckless men, for gold, have kept
Unhallowed tryst with sin and pain.
But this one blessed ship of peace
Holds cargo not for gain or greed;
The rich man's boon, from his increase,
The poor mans mile, from his sore need,
For days in ceaseless streams have poured,
With willing hands to help and stow;
The ship is packed, from board to board,
No empty place above, below,


The shore is lined with anchored ships,
One ship the less no eye will miss;
But God will know which anchor slips,
And send his angels out with this.
H. H.