Grand Haven Daily Tribune January 28, 1898
Crossing the Lake.
BY DAVID FLETCHER HUNTON.
Every sail is unfurled and set,
All within is full of light,
But the storm is raging yet,
And without, is darkest night:—
I can hear the measured beat
Of the great heart down below.
And the tramp of busy feet,
Forward and aft, and to and fro.
I can hear the engine drink
From the chalice of the deep:
And it really seems to think,
When we wake and when we sleep.
I can see the great flames grow,
Hiss and crackle, rise and swell,
In the fire pit down below,
Like the raging fires of hell!
When I’m laying in my berth,
Thinking of the friends I love,
And of all their precious worth,
Thus I pray to God above:—
“Father! bless them—everyone—
Bless my wife now far away;
Bless my daughter, and my son—
Keep them safely ‘til the day.”
“Father! while upon this trip,
Keep us all from wreck and loss:
Guide this staunch and noble ship,
‘Till she lands us safe across:—
Still the tempest’s awful roar—
Calm the angry storm above—
May we reach the other shore,
And the dear ones which we love.”
Well I know that anxious wife,
And my sleepless children, dear,
Look upon the this scene of strife,
And their hearts are filled with fear;
For they know the Lake is rough—
They can hear the roaring wind,
Beating up against the bluff,
And the sea of yeast behind.
Well I know they pray today—
Pray for me and for my sake:
I can almost hear them say,—
“Jesus! still the angry Lake.
Silence this tempestuous sea:
If consistent with Thy will—
As thou didst on Galilee,
Say to the winds,—PEACE BE STILL.”
All night long, the storm king howls,
Claps his hands in frantic glee;
And the clouds in anger scowl,
On the vexed and boisterous sea!
All night long, we toss about,
On the billows of the deep;
All the furls wildly shout
‘Til my eyes refuse to sleep!
How we tossed up mountains high!
How we from those billows fell!
Like bad angels from the sky.
Down into the jaws of hell!
Still our mighty boat lives on—
Still we brave the wind and tide;
‘Till we see the morning dawn,
And the mighty waves subside.
God be praised! we near the shore!
We have passed between the “Piers”!
Here I am, within my door,
Greeting those I love, in tears!
So we kneel in humble prayer—
Each heart voicing thanks to God
For his tender watchful care,
‘Til we’ve met upon the sod!
Grand Haven, Mich.,
Jan. 1st, A. D. 1898
Microfilm Scan: Crossing the Lake Scan