Page:Poems Hornblower.djvu/208

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196

HYMN.
Let me not wander comfortless,
My Father, far from Thee;
But still beneath thy guardian wing
In holy quiet be.

The storms of grief, the tears of woe,
Soothed by thy love, shall cease;
And all the trembling spirit breathe
A deep, unbroken peace.

The power of prayer shall o'er me shed
A soft, celestial calm;
Sweeter than evening's twilight dew,
My sold shall think its balm.

For there the still, small voice shall speak
Thy great, thy boundless love,
And angel-forms the mourner call
To the bright realms above.