Henry Alford

"``Father, wake--the storm is loud"

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