HOPE.
117
“As the messenger went forth,
Seeking o’er the deluged earth,
So, my gaze hath wandered wide,
O’er the Future’s troubled tide.
As across the waters dark,
The bird returned to that lone bark,
With the leaf of olive tree,
So return I unto thee.
Not yet do wind and wave subside;
Not yet do land and sea divide;
No verdant earth the vision cheers,
No peak of Ararat appears;
But spanning all that troubled sky,
The Bow of Promise shines on high.”
Seeking o’er the deluged earth,
So, my gaze hath wandered wide,
O’er the Future’s troubled tide.
As across the waters dark,
The bird returned to that lone bark,
With the leaf of olive tree,
So return I unto thee.
Not yet do wind and wave subside;
Not yet do land and sea divide;
No verdant earth the vision cheers,
No peak of Ararat appears;
But spanning all that troubled sky,
The Bow of Promise shines on high.”
