``Father, wake--the storm is loud, <br />The rain is falling fast: <br />Let me go to my mother's grave, <br />And screen it from the blast: <br />She cannot sleep, she will not rest, <br />The wind is roaring so; <br />We prayed that she might lie in peace: <br />My father, let us go.'' <br /> <br />``Thy mother sleeps too firm a sleep <br />To heed the wind that blows; <br />There are angel--charms that hush the noise <br />From reaching her repose. <br />Her spirit in dreams of the blessed Land <br />Is sitting at Jesu's feet; <br />Child, nestle thee in mine arms, and pray <br />Our rest may be as sweet.''<br /><br />Henry Alford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/father-wake-the-storm-is-loud/
