A Poor'torn Heart'a Tattered Heart

78

A poor-torn heart-a tattered heart-
That sat it down to rest-
Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day
Flowed silver to the West-
Nor noticed Night did soft descend-
Nor Constellation burn-
Intent upon the vision
Of latitudes unknown.

The angels-happening that way
This dusty heart espied-
Tenderly took it up from toil
And carried it to God-
There-sandals for the Barefoot-
There-gathered from the gales-
Do the blue havens by the hand
Lead the wandering Sails.