[Written for the Sentinel]

"Thou art ever-present"*

Out o'er a blood-stained field I wander far,To succor one I love and bring him home,Repeating still, through pain and death and war,"Thy kingdom come."

Upon a storm-tossed deep, where night winds playTo drive my slender craft from harbor-home,Terrors above, beneath, yet still I pray,"Thy kingdom come,"—

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