Soul's Tempest

Remark to me your love

In accents sweet and low,

Like squalls of early light

Though eaves and downy snow.

Tonight the gale is roaring deep,

In heart, a desolate cry,

Bewailing like the guiltless child

Who's been led forth to die.

To hear thy voice call forth my name,

I crave beyond request,

That your gentle, uttered word,

Will still my soul's tempest.

That in your broad and soothing grasp,

I'll fall and be secure.

Hold me 'till the test has worn,

'Till shadows be obscure.

Then, in your arms, I shall awake;

And clinging to your chest,

I'll cry until my strength is drained,

And then I'll lie to rest.