Poem By Jean Lomax-Jackson
The ship pull anchor moving in the night
As tides rolling briskly out to sea.
Vessels small and great sank at the faintest,
But thou, O ship of Zion, remainest. Storms growing strong, the night too long
Billows roar dauntlessly in the dark.
"Gone With The Wind," is a fate thou containest,
Still, thou remainest. On and on, fierce waves push to no ends
Twisting, twirling, tossing.
Chart and compass 'alas now seem vainest,
Yet, thou remainest. Desolate, no other ships are caught in sight
Yet, follow the course that leads home.
Boldly, surely, conquer the toilsome strain,
And always thou, remain. Now, calmness gives sight of a hopeful scene
In the distance, a lighthouse! a lighthouse!
Sail on towards the awesome dawning terrain,
Remainest thou, remain!