Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/120



of the ever-rolling deep, Our Father and our trust, Who bidd'st its mighty billows sweep Around the born of dust,

Who bidd'st it towering o'er them raise Its everlasting walls, Yet giv'st them slumber calm and sweet, As in their native halls,

God of the strong, unfathom'd tide, Whose pavement dark and drear, The wrecks of human power and pride, Awake our trembling fear,

O grant us, as the lonely dove Unto the ark did flee, Mid the hoarse tumult of the waves To rest secure in Thee.