  (Partridge Island.) I. What more can world-worn spirit ask Than here in nature's arms to bask And see the plangent tide at task? The zest is swift as lusty youth, (Touched with an undertone of ruth,) Invincible as ageless truth,— The wonder of all wondrous things! How coy the birds! they lift their wings; The wary ship to her anchor swings. II. Sun, moon and stars of ancient prime, And of to-day, in confluence chime The universal One sublime; Pouring these floods of deep surcease,— In universal pain, release; In universal travail, peace. The strong right arm is here laid bare In strife, by which He doth declare Another shall not with Him share. Forces of universal law Which hither these vast waters draw Send through my soul His tides of awe; While universal radiance charms And beckons to His winsome arms To soothe my timid soul's alarms. Of joy, of grief He does not rob,— The light with intermittent throb Falls on the waters glad—a-sob. III. Here He and I are conscious each Of each—a Deep, a waiting beach! A shell, a Sea that doth beseech! How all unswift my eyes to see The universal God in Thee, Who walked the waves of Galilee! Give, freely give—Thou dost not dole! Pour chrismal balm upon my soul! Anoint me from Thy golden bowl! IV. In travail, pain, grief, joy, the wave Slumbers nor sleeps the earth to save— This word the blissful God He gave, Ere yesterday in Palestine Love's flagon poured the ruddy wine, Life of the universal Vine. V. |
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