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A SABBATH MORNING AT SEA.
XII.
And though this sabbath comes to me
Without the stolèd minister,
And chanting congregation,
God's spirit shall give comfort. He
Who brooded soft on waters drear,
Creator on creation.
XIII.
He shall assist me to look higher,
Where keep the saints, with harp and song,
An endless sabbath morning,
And, on that sea commixed with fire,
Oft drop their eyelids raised too long
To the full Godhead's burning.
