The Dove of Noah
(By Charles Mackay)
Hope on her wings, and God her guide
The dove of Noah soared,
Far through the dim unfathomed space,
Where the shoreless ocean roared.
But ah! she found no valley green,
No resting place, no track,
Until the wandering ark received
The weary wanderer back.
So we on Life's tempetous sea,
Beset by grief and pain,
May seek the solace here below,
But ah! the search is vain
A resting place for weary one;
is only found above;
The ark to which the soul returns
Is the Almighty's love.
