Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the LORD our Maker; Ps.95:6
The hull of what we soon will fill beams from a waking sky
Earth’s sea of black-capped ripples gleams in winter’s
lullaby
Time is a phantom vessel; dream and Duty daily board
The hour like a frigate sailing ever heaven-ward
And Happiness, the color of spring, startles tongues and
toes
Where every sun-drop is pure gold and every bud a rose
Together we, the kinfolk of Time’s turquoise-circle sea
Set sail upon the morning-tide of moment-mystery
The hull of what we soon will fill beams; by God’s grace we
go
As jolly sailors sing of spring, a jubilant ‘Heave-ho’
© Janet Martin
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