Poem April 11, 1901 Issue

All's Well

Mary E. Sims

New Orleans Times-Democrat

As the ship speeds beneath the silent sky,
O'er the vast spaces of the moonlit sea,
And one lies quiet, listening dreamily,
How sweet it is to hear watchman's cry:
"All's well—the lights are burning bright!"
And then to sleep in safety thro' the night.

When the ship fights her gallant, steadfast way,
Amid the sounds of tempest and of rain,
'Tis sweet to hear the watchman's voice again,
As one lies sleepless, longing for the day:
"All's well—the lights are burning bright!"
Ah, what a comfort in the stormy night!

Three lamps there are—Faith, Hope, and Charity—
Which we may light to keep our souls from harm
In our long voyaging through storm and calm;
And sweet it is, while on life's restless sea,
To hear the watcher, Conscience, in the night,
Whisper: "All's well,—the lights are burning bright!"

Mary E. Sims. In New Orleans Times-Democrat.

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