And grasp of purpose, long ere sailed his ship
To lay a new world open.
Nor less prized 130
Be those impressions which incline the heart
To mild, to lowly, and to seeming weak,
Bend that way her desires. The dew, the storm—
The dew whose moisture fell in gentle drops
On the small hyssop destined to become, 135
By Hebrew ordinance devoutly kept,
A purifying instrument—the storm