Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/194

194 

In the sailor's chest they sleep, They check his ribald-song, They kindle a flame in his musing breast, 'Mid the night watch cold and long.

Like the light-wing'd bird they rove Untir'd from zone to zone, With links of love they enchain the world To Mercy's changeless throne.

 

are, who knowledge prize, Who for its blessings pray, But penury shuts it from their eyes, Rend ye those shades away.

There are, who fain would toil The immortal mind to lead, They have no skill to till its soil, Send ye the gifts they need.

Ye, who such bounty yield Like Heaven's reviving rain, Who gird these striplings for the field Shall see Goliath slain.  