Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TRAVELLING THOUGHTS; ON BOARD THE STEAMER LA FRANCE, JANURAY 26, 1866, by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL Poet's Biography First Line: A still grey haze around us Last Line: And dwell, like her, with god. Subject(s): Sea Voyages | ||||||||
A STILL grey haze around us, Behind, a foreign shore, A still grey deep beneath us, And Dover cliffs before. Not one within a hundred miles Whose name I ever heard, None who would care to speak to me A passing friendly word: Yet not a shadow crosseth me Of loneliness or fear; I bless the Omnipresent One, I know that God is here. All whom I love are scattered: And many a month and mile Rise, mountain-like, before, behind, Between me and their smile. Oh that the love I bear them Might blossom into skill To comfort and to brighten, And all with gladness fill! Ah! helpless love! Yet 'tis a joy To turn each wish to prayer, And, where each loved one sojourneth, To know that God is there. The nearest and the dearest Are where the rushing Rhine Bends northward from the Drachenfels, From castle, rock and vine; Where long-lined chestnut shadows Make tracery below, And the moss-framed window challenges The might of frost and snow. Lit rather by the dawn of heaven Than earthly sunset glow, That passing home of faith and prayer! Oh, God is there, I know! From thence the wing of loving thought Speeds on where Severn flows, And hovers o'er as fair a scene As our fair England knows; The home of summer roses, Of winter mirth and glee, Long may that home unbroken, That mirth unsilenced be! The blessings of unbounded grace I pray Him to bestow, And trust Him for the coming years, For He is there, I know. Now westward sweeps the vision Across the Irish Sea, And echoes low of sisters' love Come back again to me. A beacon bright in stormy night Of error, rage, and wrong, That home of love and truth shall cast Its radiance pure and strong. They tell of rumors strange and dark; But oh! no need to fear! God will not leave His own, I know, His guardian hand is near. Another scene by gentle Ouse Must aye be dear to me, Though all are not together now, And one is on the sea. And where a grey cathedral tower Uprises broad and high, A home is made in cloistral shade, Beside the winding Wye. To seek the richest boons for these, Why should the heart be slow? One Shepherd, Chief, and Great, and Good, Is watching there, I know. Then, in a busy city, A crypt all dark and lone, A name engraven on our hearts Is traced upon a stone. Not there the sainted spirit! She dwells in holy light, Within the pearl-raised portals, With those who walk in white. May all her children follow The path she meekly trod, And reach the home she rests in now, And dwell, like her, with God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN ABEYANCE by DENISE LEVERTOV LEAVING FOREVER by DENISE LEVERTOV SAILING HOME FROM RAPALLO by ROBERT LOWELL SHACKLETON by MADELINE DEFREES QE2. TRANSATLANTIC CROSSING. THIRD DAY. by RITA DOVE MANHATTAN, 1609 by EDWIN MARKHAM CROSSING THE ATLANTIC by ANNE SEXTON THE INDIA WHARF by SARA TEASDALE CONSECRATION HYMN by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL I DID THIS FOR THEE! WHAT HAST THOU DONE FOR ME? by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL A BIRTHDAY GREETING TO MY FATHER, 1860 by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL |
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