TWO RONDELS.

When, in the mid-sea of the night,

I waken at thy call, O Lord,

The first that troop my bark aboard

Are darksome imps that hate the light,

Whose tongues are arrows, eyes a blight —

Of wraths and cares a pirate horde —

Though on the mid-sea of the night

It was thy call that waked me, Lord.

Then I must to my arms and fight —

Catch up my shield and two-edged sword,

The words of him who is thy word —

Nor cease till they are put to flight;

Then in the mid-sea of the night

I turn and listen for thee, Lord.