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    The Hour's Glory   Table of Contents     God's Ways, Not Our Ways

Ray, H. Cordelia
Poems

- MEDITATIONS
- Reverie


Reverie


The brook glides on to the river,
The river glides to the sea;
Each seeks for a broader channel,
For broader channels, we.
raster
37

If we throw the tiniest pebble
From the fringed, sylvan shore,
The river in widening circles
Flows onward,--so calm before.

The zephyr softly trembles
The glist'ning waves along;
The gentle drip of the rain drops
Makes sweeter their quiet song.

Word-pebbles flung by the heedless,
Will ripple the calmest life;
But the kindly hints of friendship,
Like zephyrs, soothe the strife.

And the priceless tears that only
From sympathy can flow,
Like raindrops, cool the fever
Of the troubled waves below.

The brook glides on to the river,
The river glides to the sea;
Each seeks for a broader channel,
For something more yearn we.

For a fuller, deeper knowledge
Of the mystery life enfolds,
That puzzles as does the process
By which the sculptor moulds.

The child to the skies' rose-tracery
Lifts often his earnest eyes,
Now, lit with a sense of its beauty,
And now, with a vague surprise.

So erst gazed we on these marvels,
Nor thought of the Master-hand
That colors the delicate moonbeams,
And seashells among the sand.
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38

So we, still like little children,
Have read not one-half the scroll,
Have learned not one-half the lesson
Life gives to the thoughtful soul.

Oh! when will all joy be perfect?
Oh! when will all thought be free?
Why question? We glide like the river,
Toward a vast, vast sea.

The brook glides on to the river,
The river glides to the sea;
Our yearnings will blend with the chorus
Of God's ocean, Eternity!

    The Hour's Glory   Table of Contents     God's Ways, Not Our Ways