Poems (Sharpless)/At Sea

by Frances M. Sharpless

For works with similar titles, see At Sea.

AT SEA

Darkly the shadows of the night
 Deepen upon rainy seas,
 Upon the desolate rainy seas,
And not a single point of light
 Pierces the gray obscurities.
Through the dark waves, with no delay
The good ship speeds her onward way.

A little bird with weary wing
 Perches upon the topmost mast,
 A speck upon the tapering mast;
Storm-wearied, bruised, affrighted thing,
 He sleeps and dreams of home at last;
I watch him, marvelling much what Hand
Guides his far wandering flight from land.

Yet has my spirit been afar,
 Drifting upon the shifting sea;
 On speculation's weary sea,
Where seems no shore, where beams no star
 Nor any point of rest for me.
While missing God, I only cry
Give me a Saviour, or I die.

Then o'er the wild waves sped a thought,
 A memory of an oft-proved Love,
 A deep and all-supporting Love;
And I to that have firmly caught,
 And ridden the wild waves above,
Until we came to some fair shore,
And doubt and dread at once were o'er.

So sleep, thou little bird, in peace;
 The morning sun shall shine on thee,
 Lighting thy pathway o'er the sea
To sunny lands where storms shall cease;
 Where rocking on some leafy tree
This lonely night upon the mast
Shall seem a fevered dream all past.