Poems (Procter)/The Church in 1849
THE CHURCH IN 1849.
MIGHTY Mother, hearken! for thy foes Gather around thee, and exulting cry That thine old strength is gone and thou must die,Pointing with fierce rejoicing to thy woes.And is it so? The raging whirlwind blows No stronger now than it has done of yore: Rebellion, strife, and sin have been before;The same companions whom thy Master chose.We too rejoice: we know thy might is more When to the world thy glory seemeth dim;Nor can Hell's gates prevail to conquer Thee, Who hearest over all the voice of HimWho chose thy first and greatest Prince should beA fisher on the Lake of Galilee.