The Peaks



In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
'O Master that movest the wind with a finger,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Grant that we may run swiftly across the world
To huddle in worship at Thy feet.'

In the morning
A noise of men at work came the clear blue miles,
And the little black cities were apparent.
'O Master that knowest the meaning of raindrops,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
That we may sing Thy goodness to the sun.'

In the evening
The far valleys were sprinkled with tiny lights.
'O Master,
Thou that knowest the value of kings and birds,
Thou hast made us humble, idle futile peaks.
Thou only needest eternal patience;
We bow to Thy wisdom, O Lord -
Humble, idle, futile peaks.'

In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

49 sec read
63

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABCdExx fxxxEgx fxdxhxgh ABC
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 886
Words 167
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 7, 7, 8, 3

Stephen Crane

Stephen Crane was an American politician from Elizabethtown who was a delegate to the Continental Congress from 1774 to 1776. more…

All Stephen Crane poems | Stephen Crane Books

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    "The Peaks" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/35728/the-peaks>.

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