Two Rondels

I.     When, in the mid-sea of the night,         I waken at thy call, O Lord,         The first that troop my bark aboard     Are darksome imps that hate the light,     Whose tongues are arrows, eyes a blight--         Of wraths and cares a pirate horde--     Though on the mid-sea of the night         It was thy call that waked me, Lord.     Then I must to my arms and fight--         Catch up my shield and two-edged sword,         The words of him who is thy word--     Nor cease till they are put to flight;     Then in the mid-sea of the night         I turn and listen for thee, Lord.     II.     There comes no voice from thee, O Lord,         Across the mid-sea of the night!         I lift my voice and cry with might:     If thou keep silent, soon a horde     Of imps again will swarm aboard,         And I shall be in sorry plight     If no voice come from thee, my Lord,     Across the mid-sea of the night.     There comes no voice; I hear no word!         But in my soul dawns something bright:--         There is no sea, no foe to fight!     Thy heart and mine beat one accord:     I need no voice from thee, O Lord,         Across the mid-sea of the night.