The infinite in grand repose...

By Theodore Harding Rand

The infinite in grand repose

Moves under life's tempestuous throes,

As move the waters deep of ocean

Far‘ neath the ship when the tempest blows.

The cloud-rack streams across the sky,

The breaking billows threaten high;

These are Time's shadows on the voyage,

And bring the infinite Presence nigh.

All sunlit seas in joyous dance

Might show life but as happy chance,

Nor hint of One who saves divinely,—

My faith is linked with deliverance.