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ANNIVERSARY POEM.
[Read before the Alumni of the Friends' Yearly Meeting School, at the Annual Meeting at Newport, R. I., 15th 6th Mo., 1863.]
Once more, dear friends, you meet beneath
A clouded sky:
Not yet the sword has found its sheath,
And on the sweet spring airs the breath
Of war floats by
A clouded sky:
Not yet the sword has found its sheath,
And on the sweet spring airs the breath
Of war floats by
Yet trouble springs not from the ground,
Nor pain from chance;
The Eternal order circles round,
And wave and storm find mete and bound
In Providence.
Nor pain from chance;
The Eternal order circles round,
And wave and storm find mete and bound
In Providence.
