FAITH

The sea was breaking at my feet,

And looking out across the tide,

Where placid waves and heaven meet,

I thought me of the Other Side.

For on the beach on which I stood

Were wastes of sands, and wash, and roar,

Low clouds, and gloom, and solitude,

And wrecks, and ruins — nothing more.

“O, tell me if beyond the sea

A heavenly port there is!” I cried,

And back the echoes laughingly

“There is! there is!” replied.