"Name it not chance; No! in earliest youth
'Twixt the fire, 'twixt the foe and the flood,
Who feedeth the ravens, Who telleth the stars
In the pathway of danger stood.
And, aye and anon, on the journey up hill,
White milestones have pointed the way
Through the tangled maze, o'er the rocky steep,
To the ridge of an endless day.
"Now peaceful in shades of the gloaming I rest,
Unawed of the murkier night;
Calm-souled I await for the upward call,
And the glow of the nearing light.
The river's sad moanings I may not hear;
High over the murmuring foam
Floateth rich music. Ah! sweet to mine ear
Those angel tones welcoming home."