Littell's Living Age/Volume 135/Issue 1750/Homeward

by H.M.

HOMEWARD.

"There remaineth a rest."

I.

The day dies slowly in the western sky;
The sunset splendor fades, and wan and cold
The far peaks wait the sunrise; cheerily
The goat-herd calls his wanderers to the fold.
My weary soul, that fain would cease to roam,
Take comfort; evening bringeth all things home.

II.

Homeward the swift-winged seagull takes her flight;
The ebbing tide breaks softer on the sand;
The red-sailed boats draw shoreward for the night,
The shadows deepen over sea and land.
Be still, my soul, thine hour shall also come;
Behold, one evening, God shall lead thee home.

Sunday Magazine.H.M.