SHINGLE-SHORT
I guess, if it’s a sin to doubt,
I’m almost grateful for a sin,
I’m nearly glad I left You out—
Makes such a difference now You’re in!
Like on’y them what Hunger’s chew’d
Knows all the lovely taste o’ food.
....Seems even some sense to be a fool,
It shows You up that wonderful.
....You! Thorough: sound all round, an’ sure;
All-Right for ever: always safe—
O Perfeck God! I got my cure!
There’s nothin’ needn’ really chafe.
That joy’s so big all sorrow’s small;
Out o’ my brain my self can fall.
Great God! I’m full o’ gratitude—
You’re whole! You’re workin’! That pays all!
*****
My word! must be some Bush alight;—
Pretty good patch, too, by the sky.
What? Never! Can’t be mornin’?....Why,
’Tis, though! The stars ain’t hardly bright,
An’ there’s the mountains, ghosty-white—
Whatever’s happen’d? Where’s the night?
(Gets up, yawning, and turns to go in. The outlines of the boat are visible against the opposite window.)
Hallo! You there? Good mornin’! Oh,
Look here, though, you must have a home:
’Case anyone, you know, should come.
Here,—this’ll do us; come along!
38
