The Wind-Bound Mission
‘Deep in the West the godless Mormons dwell,
In the far East the Taepings waste and burn,
And stamp the name of Christ on deeds of hell—
Ah me! for comfort whither shall I turn,
While East and West breed mockeries like these?’
I turn'd to Livingstone, on Afric's soil
Labouring, and good Mackenzie's holy toil,
And Selwyn praying for the southern seas—
But never thought more tender and sublime
To any bleeding anxious heart was given,
Than when I learn'd that not a wind-bound sail,
Near this rough foreland, waits the favouring gale,
But Christian men observe the vacant time,
Stand in the baffling wind and speak of heaven!
In the far East the Taepings waste and burn,
And stamp the name of Christ on deeds of hell—
Ah me! for comfort whither shall I turn,
While East and West breed mockeries like these?’
I turn'd to Livingstone, on Afric's soil
Labouring, and good Mackenzie's holy toil,
And Selwyn praying for the southern seas—
But never thought more tender and sublime
To any bleeding anxious heart was given,
Than when I learn'd that not a wind-bound sail,
Near this rough foreland, waits the favouring gale,
But Christian men observe the vacant time,
Stand in the baffling wind and speak of heaven!
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