Dedication
To the Memory of
My Son
Theodorick Bland Pryor
I stood at dawn by a limitless sea
And watched the rose creep over the gray;
Till the heavens were a glowing canopy!
This was my day!
The pale stars stole away, one by one—
Like sensitive souls from the presence of Pride:
The moon hung low, looking back, as the sun
Rose over the tide.
And he, like a King, came up from the Sea!
He opened my rose—unfettered my song—
And quickened a heart to be true to me
All the day long.
The soul that was born of a song and flower
Of tender dawn-flush, and shadowy gray,
Was strengthened by Love for a bitter hour
That chilled my day.
I had dwelt in the garden of the Lord!
I had gathered the sweets of a summer day:
I was called to stand where a flaming sword
Turned every way.
It spared not the weak—nor the strong—nor the dear;
And following fast, like a phantom band,
Famine and Fever and shuddering Fear
Swept o’er the land.
They whispered that Hope, the angel of light,
Would spread her white wings and speed her away;
But she folded me close in my longest night
And darkest day.
As of old, when the fire and tempest had passed,
And an earthquake had riven the rocks, the Word
In a still small voice rose over the blast—
The Voice of the Lord.