Classic Poem

H ERE by the sounding sea,
My knee, O God, I bend;
And while the chanting waves to Thee
Their solemn worship send,
In humble penitence I pray
That I be heard as well as they.

They, that Thy holy hand
Placed in the ocean palaces to dwell,
Dare never to transcend Thy right decree,
But ever do Thine awful bidding well;
Thundering amidst Thy storms, or, still and dumb,
Heeding the mandate, Hither shall ye come .

And the glad voice they send
Up to Thy throne beyond the vaulted skies,
Passes unchallenged through the jasper gates
To blend with heaven's triumphant harmonies,
And certify that Nature's awful mirth
Proves Thou hast still a witness on the earth.

But I — I who have strayed
Far from the peaceful paths that lead to Thee,
Gathering the Sodom-fruit of earthly joy,
Forgetful that it grew by Sin's Dead Sea,
How will mine accents, trembling, low and grieved,
'Midst Nature's joyful anthems be received?

I, whom Thy holy hand
Fashioned in Thine own image, and endowed
With Thine immortal spirit, unto gods
My feebleness erected, low have bowed;
Laying on earthly altars fruits and flowers
Thou hadst demanded for Thy heavenly bowers.

O Father, all are gone,
Low in the dust my cherished idols lie;
Lily and asphodel I should have kept
For Thee, amidst the bright wrecks droop and die.
Send rain and sunshine! Bid my blossoms spring,
Peace-offerings which to Thee I yet may bring!

Teach me to heed each tone
Spoken by bird, and flower, and wind, and sea;
Teach my torn heart each wish and hope and joy
That stirs its depths, to consecrate to Thee;
So, when the sea and earth give up their dead,
Thy blessing, Lord, may rest upon my head.