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84
THE ROAR OF THE TEMPEST.
The roar of the tempest came down from the land,
And white grew the face of the sea,
And a cloud in the distance, as small as a hand,
Seem'd leading the storm on our lee:
One moment the moon like a beacon-light shone
In the heaven's magnificent arc;
In the next, like a phantom, 'twas vanish'd and gone,
And the sky and the ocean grew dark.
But let the old vessel be toss'd where she will,
High or low, on her perilous way—
Though the billows rage high, there is One higher still,
Whom the lightning and tempest obey!
And white grew the face of the sea,
And a cloud in the distance, as small as a hand,
Seem'd leading the storm on our lee:
One moment the moon like a beacon-light shone
In the heaven's magnificent arc;
In the next, like a phantom, 'twas vanish'd and gone,
And the sky and the ocean grew dark.
But let the old vessel be toss'd where she will,
High or low, on her perilous way—
Though the billows rage high, there is One higher still,
Whom the lightning and tempest obey!
Strike the top-gallant masts—reef the mainsail, I cried,
Let the mizen yard swiftly be lower'd;
One dash of the sea stove the bolts by my side,
And the rain like a hurricane pour'd:
On we rush'd with the blast, it was fearful to think
Of the rocks which our course might soon check;
For I felt that we stood on eternity's brink,
And the ship might, ere morn, be a wreck:
Still, I thought, let the vessel be toss'd where she will,
High or low, on her perilous way—
Though the billows rage high, there is One higher still,
Whom the lightning and tempest obey.
Let the mizen yard swiftly be lower'd;
One dash of the sea stove the bolts by my side,
And the rain like a hurricane pour'd:
85
Of the rocks which our course might soon check;
For I felt that we stood on eternity's brink,
And the ship might, ere morn, be a wreck:
Still, I thought, let the vessel be toss'd where she will,
High or low, on her perilous way—
Though the billows rage high, there is One higher still,
Whom the lightning and tempest obey.
Oh! often we look'd to the desolate east,
Still hoping the worst had now pass'd;
As little by little the dim light increas'd,
And the dawn, the blest dawn, came at last.
The swell of the billow lay hush'd into sleep,
The ocean scarce utter'd a sigh;
But the foam of its anger lay white on the deep,
And told of the madness gone by:
So I cried let the vessel be toss'd where she will,
Our spirits shall gratefully say—
Though the billows rage high, there is One higher still,
Whom the lightning and tempest obey.
Still hoping the worst had now pass'd;
As little by little the dim light increas'd,
And the dawn, the blest dawn, came at last.
The swell of the billow lay hush'd into sleep,
The ocean scarce utter'd a sigh;
But the foam of its anger lay white on the deep,
And told of the madness gone by:
So I cried let the vessel be toss'd where she will,
Our spirits shall gratefully say—
Though the billows rage high, there is One higher still,
Whom the lightning and tempest obey.
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