52
Hark ! dost not hear the hoarse wave break
Upon the shore ? wake, dreamer, wake !
He starts, as from a heavy sleep ;
He sees the broadening channels deep
Weaving full fast their watery net
Around his thoughtless, lagging feet.
Then shot an icy shudder through
His frame —' wife, children, leave them so,
Alone upon this wretched sod !
Can this be, then, thy will, O God ? '
A moment brief, with horror fraught.
Flashed by, then came a calmer thought ;
' He that hath made can still sustain.
Nor needs thy aid, O mortal vain ! '
His heart grows still, the dread is past.
Fear's palsying fetters broken through ;
Toward the near cot he boundeth fast.
And fast the hissing waves pursue.
In vain — they cannot reach him now !
High on the cottage-mound he stands,
