Classic Poem

SPEEDING upon life's tidal wave.
Beyond thine own control,
Whither and whence a mystery unknown,—
Know this, at least, my soul:

That come what may in after time
Of utmost change to thee,
Through the long vast immeasurable flux
Of all futurity;

Naught of conceivable events
Awaits thee first and last,
One half so great, so marvellous, as that
Which is already past.

Erewhile absorb'd within th' abyss
Of nullity supreme,
Forming no smallest part or particle
Of all creation's scheme;

I, who unmade had never been
A single moment miss'd,
Now in the midst of living moving things,
Live, move, exult, exist.

And shall I then, Creator Lord,
Refuse in Thee to trust,
For all that can hereafter me befall,
When this poor heart is dust?

Ah, no!—I need but contemplate
Thy mercies which have been;
The past is pledge of Thy unfailing care
Through every future scene!