The Haven

Long have I yearned for thee, O dearest maid,
And now I have thee, lo, I am afraid.
So little did I hope, I shrink in dread;
For many a wave has passed above my head—
And still my spirit faints: a saviour prove
To one much tossed upon the storms of love.
Escaped from shipwreck and the sea's alarms
Take me within the haven of thine arms.
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Macedonius
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