Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/179

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MRS. SIGOURNEY'S POEMS.
179

Chambers where the mighty sleep
    Powerless as the infant dead,
While the unfathomable deep
    O'er them draws its curtain dread.

Gleaming pearls their pillow light,
    Coral boss'd with ruby gem,
Builds their mausoleum bright;
    What is Ocean's wealth to them?
Shouldst thou when the tempest's wrath
    Mingles cloud and surging sea,
Plunge that same sepulchral path
    What were all Earth's gold to thee?

Prayer's soft breath thy sails can fill,
    Guide the prosperous on thy way,
Though, perchance, the pilot's skill
    Yield to peril and dismay,
Though the needle's baffled care
    Point not to its destin'd pole,
Still the God who heareth prayer
    Rules the Sea, and saves the soul.




"And David said, Let me now fall into the hand of the Lord, for his mercies are great, and let me not fall into the hand of man."
2 Sam. xxiv, 14.

Man hath a voice severe,
    His neighbors fault to blame,
A wakeful eye, a listening ear
    To note his brother's shame.