UPON THE SAME THEME

Moved never a ship more happy to the shore
Than I — no ship by wind and water crossed;
The sailors, hope and courage lately lost,
Kneel now and happy praise to God outpour.
Nor ever from his death-cell captive tore
The noose around his neck, with such joy tossed
The rope away, milord whom wars exhaust,
As was my joy to see the sword of war
Abandoned. O all ye who love Love's rhyme,
Applaud the weaver of the passionate song
Who was but lately lost: since more sublime
One lost soul saved for heaven from wrack and wrong,
More worthy of God's pleasure and our praise,
Than nine and ninety of impeccable ways.