POET'S CORNER.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume I, Issue 48, 29 May 1862, Page 6 (Supplement)

POET'S CORNER.

BEST! Oh! where shall rest be found,— Best for the weary soul ? I. I stood by the o’cean’s waves, As they roll’d In fury by, And the madden’d billows flung Their white foam to the sky; And I breathed aloud these words In my agony of soul, ’Mid the wild winds swelling tones, And the sea’s unceasing roll, — When, from out its dark depths, a voice seem’d to say,— ■' There is no rest here— away — away !” 11. X stood by the running stream, As it bounded bright along, A moment flashing in the light, Then dancing gaily on; And again I spoke those words, In accents loud and clear. When a low and musical voice Came to my listening ear, And in silvery tones it seem'd to say,— “ There is no rest here— away — a wav 111. I wandered forth at night. And stood 'neath the vaulted sky; ’Twas gemm’d with a thousand stars. Giving light as they shone on high; I thought of their ceaseless course, How year after they roll — Aud these words from my lips broke forth,— “ Is there rest to be found for the soul i" Then from each tiny star I heard a voice say,— “ Think not lowest here—away—away I stood ’mid the busy haunt Of the peopled world once more. And I heard its wild din swell hike the ocean’s angry roar; I scann'd each face as it passed, And peered into each dark eye, And strove every thought to read, As on the throng swept by; But on each care-worn brow the same look seem’d to say.— ” I And no rest hero—away—away V. I turned to the Book of Life, And open’d its sacred page, There I learned that there is no rest To be found on the world’s busy stage; But it told mo there is a home In the skies far, far away, And a still small voice whispered low In my ear, — “ There is rest to be found—’tis here—’tis here!”