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A Word In Season
THIS is a day the Lord hath made.'--Thus spake
The good religious heart, unstained, unworn,
Watching the golden glory of the morn.--
Since, on each happy day that came to break
Like sunlight o'er this silent life of mine,
Yea, on each beauteous morning I saw shine,
I have remembered these your words, rejoiced
And been glad in it. So, o'er many-voiced
Tumultuous harmonies of tropic seas,
Which chant an everlasting farewell grand
Between ourselves and you and the old land,
Receive this token: many words chance-sown
May oftentimes have taken root and grown,
To bear food fruit perennially, like these.
poem
by
Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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