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There hope in the Ark at the dawning of day,
When o'er the wide waters the Dove flew
away;
But when ere the night she came wearily back
With the leaf she had pluck'd on her desolate
track,
The children of Noah knelt down and adored,
And utter'd in anthems their praise to the
Lord.
Oh bird of glad tidings! oh joy in our pain!
Beautiful Dove! thou art welcome again.
When peace has departed the care-stricken
breast,
And the feet of the weary one languish for rest;
When the world is a wide-spreading ocean of
grief,
How blest the return of the Bird and the Leaf!
Reliance on God is the Dove to our Ark,
And Peace is the olive she plucks in the dark.
The deluge abates, there is sun after
rain—
Beautiful Dove! thou art welcome again!
Mackay.
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