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- THE WHITE CLOUD. 135
THE WHITE CLOUD.
One snowy cloud is resting now
Upon the blue sky's breast, And while I gaze, with anxious brow,
I envy such a rest— Long for the peace earth may not know
My soul has been in quest.
Well purified from stains of sin, Calm as that cloud of white, Above the world, where, all serene,
The air is ever bright— Thus would I rest, when storms descend,
And tempests gather might.
But lo! that cloud is floating there
Into the depths of blue, The breezes, springing fresh and fair,
Are wafting it from view; Clouds, there is not in earth, or air,
A place of rest for you!
But though through space ye hurry on,
And Change your motto be, This weary soul, when life is gone,
Shall spread its pinions free, And rest with the unchanging One
Through all eternity.-