88
A SONG OF MEMORY.
Nothing heedeth as it floweth,
Of all my heart hath missed and needeth;
Murmur, murmur, still unknowing,
Murmur, murmur, in thy flowing,
None the less will fond believing
Link thy chiding with my grieving.
Since we walked beside thy stream,
Oft 'mid summer musings lost
I have dreamed a deeper dream;
She a deeper stream hath crossed,—
Crossed it singing! once of old
Dark and swift that river flowed
Sunless, to an unknown sea;
And the nations shivering stood
On the margin of the flood,
Sorely pressed behind,—before
Lay a dim and doubtful shore;
Till a Helper, at the cry
Of a world in agony,
With a garment dipped in blood,
Smote the waters as He passed
On a glorious errand;—fast
Hither, thither backwards drew
All the sullen waves, and through
Came His ransomed! King and Priest,
Sage and warrior, virgin mild,
And the Slave from bonds released.
'And the mother with her child,
From the greatest to the least,
Of all my heart hath missed and needeth;
Murmur, murmur, still unknowing,
Murmur, murmur, in thy flowing,
None the less will fond believing
Link thy chiding with my grieving.
Since we walked beside thy stream,
Oft 'mid summer musings lost
I have dreamed a deeper dream;
She a deeper stream hath crossed,—
Crossed it singing! once of old
Dark and swift that river flowed
Sunless, to an unknown sea;
And the nations shivering stood
On the margin of the flood,
Sorely pressed behind,—before
Lay a dim and doubtful shore;
Till a Helper, at the cry
Of a world in agony,
With a garment dipped in blood,
Smote the waters as He passed
On a glorious errand;—fast
Hither, thither backwards drew
All the sullen waves, and through
Came His ransomed! King and Priest,
Sage and warrior, virgin mild,
And the Slave from bonds released.
'And the mother with her child,
From the greatest to the least,
