Driving through the storms;
My wits hover,
In the consciousness
Of His loving presence;
And all unrest is soothed:
The heaving ocean,
Lodged high in my throat;
Is as an untroubled bayou;
Charmed, and glistening,
In the evening sun.
My wits hover,
In the consciousness
Of His loving presence;
And all unrest is soothed:
The heaving ocean,
Lodged high in my throat;
Is as an untroubled bayou;
Charmed, and glistening,
In the evening sun.
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