Poems (Curwen)/Richard Raby, Pilot

by Annie Isabel Curwen

Richard Raby, Pilot.

    Songs of sadness
'Tis my destiny to sing,
 If I strike one note of gladness
Sorrow comes on sable wing,
    Murmuring low,
In her voice of plaintive woe;
 Joy can wait until to-morrow,
 Sing, oh, sing, to comfort sorrow.

    Another barque—
An old and a familiar one—
 Has slipped its moorings in the dark,
And on its lonesome voyage gone,
    Gliding away,
Silently, at the close of day,
 Piloted by the Unseen Hand
 To a better berth in the silent land.

    Faintly I hear
A voice like sweetest music, falling
 Upon the weary pilot's ear;
Softly, soothingly 'tis calling—
    "Lay down thine oars,
Upon these peaceful shores
 There is no watch for thee to keep,
 Let go thy anchor! Rest and sleep!"

    Dimly I see
The shining shores of that fair coast,
 Looming beyond the unplumbed sea,
Which our old friend has crossed:
    The golden strand
Of the mysterious shadow-land—
 The refuge of the soul—the haven
 Some call the border-land of heaven.

    O, mighty faith!
Illuminator of the gloom
 Of that dark vale, which men call death,
But I, only a waiting-room
    Where souls abide
Till they are judged, and purified;
 Light of the Light Eternal, we
 Triumph o'er death, possessing Thee.