=320.= PEACE, BE STILL.
When, on his mission from his home in heaven,
In the frail bark the Saviour deigned to sleep,
The tempest rose—with headlong fury driven,
The wave-tossed vessel whirled along the deep:
Wild shrieked the storm amid the parting shrouds,
And the vexed billows dashed the darkening clouds.
Ah! then how futile human skill and power,—
"Save us! we perish in the o'erwhelming wave!"
They cried, and found in that tremendous hour,
"An eye to pity, and an arm to save."
He spoke, and lo! obedient to His will,
The raging waters, and the winds were still.
And thou, poor trembler on life's stormy sea,
Where dark the waves of sin and sorrow roll,
To Him for refuge from the tempest flee,—
To Him, confiding, trust the sinking soul;
For O, He came to calm the tempest-tossed,
To seek the wandering, and to save the lost.
For thee, and such as thee, impelled by love,
He left the mansions of the blessed on high;
Mid sin, and pain, and grief, and fear, to move,
With lingering anguish, and with shame to die.
The debt to Justice, boundless Mercy paid,
For hopeless guilt, complete atonement made.
O, in return for such surpassing grace,
Poor, blind, and naked, what canst thou impart?
Canst thou no offering on his altar place?
Yes, lowly mourner; give him all thy heart:
That simple offering he will not disown,—
That living incense may approach his throne.
[Footnote 77: A gentleman of fortune and literary culture; a life-long resident in the country, in his native State, New Jersey.]
* * * * *
=William Clifton, 1772-1790.= (Manual, p. 512.)
From lines "To Fancy."