Frederick George Scott



Out of the Storm

The huge winds gather on the midnight lake,
    Shaggy with rain and loud with foam-white feet,
    Then bound through miles of darkness till they meet
The harboured ships and city’s squares, and wake
From steeples, domes and houses, sounds that take
    A human speech, the storm’s mad course to greet;
    And nightmare voices through the rain and sleet
Pass shrieking, till the town’s rock-sinews shake.

Howl, winds, around us in this silent room!
    Wild lake, with thunders beat thy prison bars!
        A brother’s life is ebbing fast away,
And, mounting on your music through the gloom,
    A pure soul mingles with the morning stars,
        And with them melts into the blaze of day.

St. Luke’s Hospital,
      Duluth, May 17, 1894. [Page 126]