Poems (Hoffman)/The Billow's Answer
THE BILLOW'S ANSWER
Not all unanswered now—the question of my soulAsked of the cliff's age-furrowed brow,—lost in the billow's roll—For softer, grander, than human speechAre the answering thoughts, that soothe and teach.Thoughts launched by God, like sea-weed thrownOn the restless waves of Life's great unknown;Cast up on Life's wave-washed beach,Pure, calm, as a dove to its sheltered nest,My answer came on the wave's white crest.
The question: this was the troubled thingA mourning dove—with a broken wing."Tell me, O billows, that roll on roll,Speak more than all things to the human soul!Why must one spirit feel every dartThat has thrust the body or pierced the heart?Mental and physical, heart and brainIs there left one link in Life's golden chainThat has not quivered with human pain?"
The answer: this was the heavenly thingA peaceful dove with silvered wingThat fluttered down from the billow's crestAnd crossed its wings on a troubled breast—"Thou art given the priceless jeweled key,That unlocks the great heart of humanity;Thou hast felt their labor, their strife, their pain,Their weary heartaches, their grief and care;Their bitter struggles and dark despair.May not one knock at thy door in vain!
O little dove with thy folded wings!O billows, that utter such wondrous things!Ye are thoughts from God, let Him send at choice,The ocean thunder, the still small voice;If they speak from One, who alone can knowThe height and the depth of our human woe;Who has felt each pang of our mortal breath,Sin's serpent-fang and the night of death,And Who o'er the waves of Life's troubled seaCalls to the suffering: "Come unto Me."