Poem June 19, 1943 Issue

Ships at Eventide

JEANNE ROE PRICE

A ship that sails across the sea.
Beneath the far horizon clips.
And lost it seems to you and me.
As from our watching eyes it slips.

It is not lost; it does but sail
To other shores. Nor doubt nor fear
Can hinder it, nor guidance fail.
Its course is safe, unerring, clear.

Dear heart, so like the ship at sea
Thy loved one is. Weep not nor mourn!
Not lost and gone, not dead is he—
He does but sail into the dawn!

Nor life, nor death, nor present things,
Nor things to come, nor depth, nor height
Can ever part him from God's love,
His wisdom and eternal light.

For God is Life, forever one
With man. Thus man is deathless, free,
Triumphant, God's beloved son,
Safe in God's care—reality.

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