RED ALGJE. 271 



Shall I less patience have, than Thou, who know 

 That Thou revisit'st all who wait for Thee, 

 Nor only fill'st the unsounded deeps below, 

 But dost refresh with punotual overflow 

 The rifts where unregarded mosses be? 



The drooping sea weed hears, in night abyssed, 

 Far and more far the wave's receding shocks, 

 Nor doubts, for all the darkness and the mist, 

 That the pale shepherdess will keep her tryst, 

 And shore-ward lead again her foam-fleeced flocks. 



For the same wave that rims the Carib shore 

 With momentary brede of pearl and gold, 

 Goes hurrying thence to gladden with its roar 

 Lorn weeds bound fast on rocks of Labrador 

 By love divine on one sweet errand rolled. 



And, though Thy healing waters far withdraw, 

 I, too, can wait and feed on hope of Thee 

 And of the dear recurrence of Thy law, 

 Sure that the parting grace that morning saw 

 Abides its time to come in search of me. 



y. R. Laiuell. 



m 



80 





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