Poems (Louisa Blake)/The Haven
THE HAVEN.
I saw a little bark alone and cast
Upon a wide, unfathomable sea;
The sea of human life:—The waters round
Were smooth and calm and peaceful, and it seem'd
A lovely place for the light fragile thing
That floated on its surface, and the sun
Shone sweetly on it, as its placid breast
Reflected heaven:—Methought 't was beautiful
To float thus gently down the stream of life,
And as I thought I look'd abroad and gazed
Upon the mighty ocean which was spread
In one grand sheet before me, and I saw
(And trembled at the sight,) huge mountain waves,
The least of which might in its whelming crush,
Press down that slender bark forever;
I wept to think that ere its voyage was o'er
The object of my fond solicitude
Must pass that dreadful sea; and if the first
Terrific breaker did not swallow it,
It would be toss'd about, the cruel sport
Of winds and waves before it should arrive
(Perhaps all shatter'd) at its destined port.
How prone are we to anticipate the worst!
That little bark was in the hands of one
Who could uphold it in the fiercest storm;
He did uphold it and made all its voyage
Though short yet most delightful—while I look'd,
E'en while I gazed upon it, ere it left
The quiet tranquil spot on which it sail'd,
'Twas wafted onward to a lovely shore,
A blissful haven, which no storms could reach;
Yet perfect and as fair as when at first
Its maker cast it on that sea of life,
He took it thence—for 'twas too beautiful,
Too frail and lovely far, to be toss'd round,
A shattered, worthless wreck.
Upon a wide, unfathomable sea;
The sea of human life:—The waters round
Were smooth and calm and peaceful, and it seem'd
A lovely place for the light fragile thing
That floated on its surface, and the sun
Shone sweetly on it, as its placid breast
Reflected heaven:—Methought 't was beautiful
To float thus gently down the stream of life,
And as I thought I look'd abroad and gazed
Upon the mighty ocean which was spread
In one grand sheet before me, and I saw
(And trembled at the sight,) huge mountain waves,
The least of which might in its whelming crush,
Press down that slender bark forever;
I wept to think that ere its voyage was o'er
The object of my fond solicitude
Must pass that dreadful sea; and if the first
Terrific breaker did not swallow it,
It would be toss'd about, the cruel sport
Of winds and waves before it should arrive
(Perhaps all shatter'd) at its destined port.
How prone are we to anticipate the worst!
That little bark was in the hands of one
Who could uphold it in the fiercest storm;
He did uphold it and made all its voyage
Though short yet most delightful—while I look'd,
E'en while I gazed upon it, ere it left
The quiet tranquil spot on which it sail'd,
'Twas wafted onward to a lovely shore,
A blissful haven, which no storms could reach;
Yet perfect and as fair as when at first
Its maker cast it on that sea of life,
He took it thence—for 'twas too beautiful,
Too frail and lovely far, to be toss'd round,
A shattered, worthless wreck.