On the Sea III

To Thee my soul turneth in trust or fear,
'Tis to Thee she giveth ever thanks and worship;
In Thee I rejoice on the day I wander forth and flee,
And Thee I thank in every flight and wandering—
Yea, when the ship, to bear me over, spreadeth out
Wings like the wings of a stork,
And when the deep groaneth and roareth beneath me,
As though it had learnt from mine own entrails,
And maketh the abyss to seethe like a pot,
Yea, turneth the sea into a pot of burning ointment;
And when the ship from Kittim cometh to the sea of the Philistines
And the Hittites come down to the stronghold;
And when creatures press upon the ship
And sea-monsters watch for food,
And there is a time of trouble as of .one that bringeth forth her first child, when children
Are come to the birth and there is no strength to bring forth.
And though I should lack for food and drink,
I take the sweetness of Thy name into my mouth for sustenance;
And I have no care for worldly goods,
Nor for treasure nor for aught that may perish—
Even so far that I can forsake her that went forth of my loins,
Sister of my soul—and she mine only one—
And I can forget her son, though it pierce my heart,
And I have nothing left but his memory for a symbol—
Fruit of my loins, child of my delight—
Ah! how should Jehudah forget Jehudah?
But all this is a light thing when set against Thy love,
Since I may enter Thy gates with thanksgiving,
And sojourn there, and count my heart
A burnt offering bound upon Thine altar;
And may make my grave in Thy land,
So that it be there a witness for me.