[Written for the Sentinel.]


Though the rough surge is thundering on the sand,And wild white-horses o'er the sullen seaRace with the raving wind, I take my stand,Immovable in calm security,Upon my rock, above the breakers hurled—The rock of Christ, above a 'whelming world.

A 'whelming world of foul unfaith and follyAround me high upheaves its threatening foam:Its hydra-headed tide and tongues unholyWould hurl destruction on my harmless home:But, high above the billows' angry shock,I set my feet unmoved upon the rock.

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