Prelude

Amid the broken waters of our ever-restless thought,
Oh be my verse an answering gleam from higher radiance caught ;
That where through dark o'erarching boughs of sorrow, doubt, and sin,
The glorious Star of Bethlehem upon the flood looks in,
Its tiny trembling ray may bid some downcast vision turn
To that enkindling Light, for which all earthly shadows yearn.
Oh be my verse a hidden stream, which silently may flow
Where drooping leaf and thirsty flower in lonely valleys grow;
And often by its shady course to pilgrim hearts be brought
The quiet and refreshment of an upward-pointing thought ;
Till, blending with the broad bright stream of sanctified endeavour,
God's glory be its ocean home, the end it seeketh ever.