Skip to content

Chapter XXIII

Text size

Not all in vain! For with the will to serve,
Myself am served, at least. A secure calm
Soars in my soul with wings that will not swerve,
And on my brow I feel a ministering palm.
Even in the effort for another's peace
I have achieved mine own. I hear a psalm
Of angels, and the grim forebodings cease.

Comments

Log in to leave a comment.

Seaward: An Elegy on the Death of Thomas William ParsonsChapter XXIII

0%1 min left in chapter