Poem by Ebenezer Jones

* * *

     My wife and child, come close to me,
     ⁠The world to us is a stormy sea;
With your hands in mine, if your eyes but shine,
⁠     I care not how wild the storm may be.

     ⁠For the fiercest wind that ever blew
⁠     Is nothing to me, so I shelter you:
No warmth do I lack, for the howl at my back
⁠     Sings down to my heart, "Man, bold and true."

     ⁠A pleasant sail, my child! my wife!
⁠     O'er a pleasant sea, to many is life;
The wind blows warm, and they dread no storm,
⁠     And wherever they go, kind friends are rife.

⁠     But, wife and child! the love, the love,
     ⁠That lifteth us to the saints above,
Could only have grown where storms have blown,
     ⁠The truth and strength of the heart to prove. 

1. The Hand
2. When the World Is Burning
3. High Summer
4. Ode to Thought
5. Rain

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