SONNET.
Reading edition
An open wound that has been healed anew; A stream dried up, that once again is fed With waters making green its grassy bed; A tree that withered was, but to the dew Puts forth young leaves and blossoms fresh of hue, Even from the branches which had seemed most dead; A sea which having been disquieted, Now stretches like a mirror calm and blue,— Our hearts to each of these were likened well. But Thou wert the physician and the balm; Thou, Lord, the fountain, whence anew was filled Their parchèd channel; Thou the dew that fell On their dead branches; ’twas thy voice that stilled The storm within—Thou didst command the calm.