The Haven

When the dangerous rocks are past,
When the threatening tempests cease,
O how sweet to rest at last
In a silent port of peace!

Though that port may be unknown,
Though no chart its name may bear,
Brightly beam its lights on one--
Blest to find his refuge there.

There he paints the joyous band--
Friends and family--what more?
Bliss!--he cries--thou hallow’d land!
And he springs upon the shore.

Life! thou art the storm--the rock!
Death! the friendly port thou art:--
Haven from the tempest shock,
Welcoming the wanderer’s heart.

Yes! I see from yonder tomb
Promised peace and tranquil rest:
Death! my haven! I shall come,
Soothe me on thy mother-breast.