SAFE HOME.
Safe home, safe home in port!
Rent cordage, shattered deck,
Tom sails, provisions short,
And only not a wreck:
But, oh, the joy upon the shore,
To tell our voyage,—perils o'er!
The prize, the prize secure!
The athlete nearly fell;
Bare all he could endure,
And bare not always well:
But he may smile at troubles gone,
Who sets the victor-garland on!
No more the foe can harm;
No more of leaguered camp,
And cry of night alarm,
And need of ready lamp:
And yet how nearly he had failed,—
How nearly had that foe prevailed!
The exile is at home!
O nights and days of tears,
O longings not to roam,
O sins, and doubts, and fears:
What matter now this bitter fray?
The King has wiped those tears away.
St. Joseph of the Studium, A.D. 870 (translated by J. M. Neale).