Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/236

210 "A great wave brake above us, and hope died. Then Lazarus prayed: 'O Lord, be thou our guide, Who me ere now out of the tomb didst bring! Succor the bark, for she is foundering!' Like a wood-pigeon's wing, this outcry clove The tempest, and went up to realms above.

"And Jesus, looking from the palace fair Where he sat throned, beheld his friend's despair, And the fierce deep yawning to swallow him. Straightway the Master's gentle eyes grew dim, His heart yearned over us with pity warm, And one long sun-ray leaped athwart the storm.

"Now God be praised! For, though we yet were tost Right roughly up and down, and sank almost With bitter sea-sickness, our fears were stayed: The haughty waves began to be allayed; Clouds brake afar, then vanished altogether, And a green shore gleamed through the bright'ning weather.

"Long was it yet ere the shocks quite subsided Of the tempestuous waves; and our boat glided, Our crazy boat, nearer that welcome shore All tranquilly, a dying breeze before. Smooth as a grebe our keel the breakers clomb, Furrowing into great flakes the snowy foam.