One who was suffering tumult in his soul
Yet fail'd to seek the sure relief of prayer--
Went forth--his course surrendering to the care
Of the fierce wind, while mid-day lightnings prowl
Insidiously,--untimely thunders growl,--
While trees, dim-seen, in frenzied numbers, tear
The lingering remnant of their yellow hair,--
And shivering wolves, surpris'd with darkness, howl
As if the sun were not;--he lifted high
His head--and in a moment did appear
Large space, mid dreadful clouds, of purest sky,
An azure orb--shield of Tranquillity,
Invisible unlook'd-for minister
Of providential goodness ever nigh!
Design, coding, and editing: Copyright © 1997 by James M. Garrett. All rights reserved.