Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/282

90 A seething surge of humanity To break by the seaside moaning.

Up and down the shore, from the tattered edge Of the ocean's silver shredded, To the faint new moon and the little star On the low horizon threaded,

A living wave from the world's great sea, From its ceaseless, sad commotion, Breaks with a song of praise and prayer On the sands of the solemn ocean.

And the dear old hymns that have cradled saints— Dear words that have been their pillow To Jordan's edge, on the air ring out— Through the psalm of the beating billow.

Whilst the ruddy sunset burns and glows Till the gates ajar stand yonder, And I hear a voice from the pulpit boat Chime in with the billow's thunder:

After this I looked, and behold a door Was opened in heaven." The story Six hundred voices bore along In the words of the dream of glory.

And before the throne was a sea of glass Mingled with fire." Slow turning, It seemed the shores of the crystal sea Were under the sunset burning.