A SEAFOG by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER

UP from the sea came a chill gray mist,
Between midnight hour and morn.
The stars on high that were biding tryst
From watching eyes were borne;
And the green fields, late by the sunlight kissed,
In the darkness lay forlorn.

There seemed no hope in the shrouded sky,
No help in the hills remote;
'T was as if no more from the greenwood nigh,
Should the song of the robin float;
Nor the roses bloom, nor the young birds fly,
Nor the oriole sound a note.

For up from the sea came that mist of death,
So vague, so wan, so white;
The sea of trouble and woe, and faith
Grew timorous at the sight,
And love sank down, at the shivering breath
Of a cruel and creeping blight.

That hour of waiting, how slowly it wore
Its heart-beats dull away!
Distant and cold seemed the shining shore
Of the beautiful yesterday,
While wearily life its burden bore
Along the sorrowful way.

Fair in the East, lo! a line of light
Pulsed and quivered and broke.
God's finger moved in its gentle might,
God's silence tenderly spoke.
The seafog lifted! The fears took flight!
The soul from its trance awoke.

Ah! whence shall the wrecked on the perilous reef
Of doubts, that like mists arise,
Find the flash of the lances that bring relief,
If not in the morning skies?
And where shall they cry, through their utter grief,
Except unto Paradise?

The gloom will pass, and the glory dawn,
When the birds begin to sing,
When the murk of the night is swiftly gone,
In the day's rich blossoming,
And garments of praise the soul puts on
As it bows to its gracious King.

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