University of Virginia Library

AWAY!

Away!—away!—
On threatening day—
The sweeping storm,
With cloudy swarm
Of terrors wild,
Heaped, thronged, and piled
Together high—
In the angry sky,
And winds that seem,
With tempest-dream,
(Far swept across—)
The earth to toss
As 'twere a wave
Which foam-wreaths pave!
(So doth the strife
Give troubled life
To all around,)
The while the ground,
Is strewn with things
By those fierce wings,
Swept darkly down—
The foliage crown
Of shadowing bowers,
Rained down in showers—
Loose boughs and leaves—
Till the earth's frame heaves—
Roused fancy deems—
For so it seems
With motion free,
Like storm-lashed sea!—
Such tempests strong
Driven fierce along
May raze—may rock,
With startling shock.
The rose-tree frail
In smiling vale—
It roots—it rears—
The up-shooting spears
Of sapling oaks,
Whose firmness mocks
The threat'ning blast
That thunders past!—
Roots, roots and rears
The straight strong spears—
Of sapling oaks—
Which bide the strokes
Of stormy blast
Deep-rooted fast;—
Nor shaken there—
Proud growths and fair—
By shrivelling fears:—
Like spears with spears,—
The storms they meet,
And fearless greet!
Like foe with foe,
They stand the blow,
So bide the brunt,
Even front to front:
Nor shrink away,
On threatening day—
From strife and wrath,
On their wild path—
My Faith so stands!—
Fate's treacherous hands
May now weave strong
A web of wrong;
Tumultuous hours,
With threatening powers—
Of grief and ill,
May try it still,—
But shall not shake,—
Nor teach to quake,—
Nor fill with fear!—
They root—they rear,
That faith sublime,
Which fate nor time
Shall ever bow—
Believe it thou!
Dark hours of doom,
Of wrath and gloom,
May raze and rock,
With mastering shock,
And teach to quail,
Faint faith, and frail—
These root,—these rear,
Strong faiths and clear,
Like mine is still,
That fears no ill,
Like mine—like mine!
Say too—like thine!—