Page:A story in verse from facts of the times (IA storyinversefrom00wash).pdf/32

 I wonder if it c'er befell you In the frigid Arctic regions To make voyage? In those regions Float the icebergs, high up rerring, Clear and crystal, and appearing In indissolublc union, Held with perfect, close communion. And the iceblink dazzling o'er them, Casts back radiance before them. In this union, on and ever, They are held, the sanje, together. Like this glistening prototype, Like this solid antitype, - Like to this is now the union, And the solid, "close communion," Which exist, 'mid all exposure, In the bounds of that enclosure, In the limits of that sinall space, In the village called the "Fox Chase, " In the region once called Penn's Land, In the land of sylvan forests, in the church called " Bethany Baptist." And the iceblink dazzling o'er them, Casts back radiance before them. And you draw your furs about you- Closer draw your wraps about you, When you feel their aura strike you, When you feel their keen air smite you. In this union, on and ever, They are held the same together, Come sunshine, storm, or rainy weather. Such is the fruit from their endeavor.