V. 2. / 140.) The Promise . . .

The angry storm raises its voice

Hurls its fiery arrows

Blasts these summer leaves

And strips my tree --- and is gone

The angry silence lowers its voice

Drops its hidden hurt

Throws these pages round to catch it

And tears my fears away --- and is gone

The promise:  While the earth remaineth

Seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat,

And summer and winter, and day and night

Shall not cease  

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