97. St. Paul
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{168}
I DREAM'D that, with a passionate complaint, |
| I wish'd me born amid God's deeds of might; |
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And envied those who had the presence bright |
| Of gifted Prophet and strong-hearted Saint, |
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Whom my heart loves, and Fancy strives to paint. |
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I turn'd, when straight a stranger met my sight,
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| Came as my guest, and did awhile unite |
| His lot with mine, and lived without restraint. |
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Courteous he was, and grave,—so meek in mien, |
| It seem'd untrue, or told a purpose weak; |
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Yet, in the mood, he could with aptness speak, |
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Or with stern force, or show of feelings keen,
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Marking deep craft, methought, or hidden pride:—
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Then came a voice,—"St. Paul is at thy side."
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Off Sardinia.
June 20, 1833.
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