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216

WOLFE OF THE KNOLL.

Crying, "Hath our God forsaken
One that hath been tried so long ?
Let his loving kindness waken !"

Brave old man ! that sight the while
Stirs in him no strong emotion,
But again with chastened smile
Turns he to the throbbing ocean.
There she lies, a noble ship !
And the tempest hath not scathed her,
Though her shrouds and canvas drip
With the drenching floods that bathed her !
Springing from its perch, a bark
Wide its snowy Avings outstretches,
Flies, like arrow to the mark,
Isle-ward till the shore it reaches.
Lo, he comes ! and faith hath won
Her reward that faileth never.
"Now it is enough, my son !
Blessed be His name forever !"