Scripture Verse

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. Revelation 3:20


Mary B. Slade

Words: Ma­ry B. Slade, in The Blue Bird, ed­it­ed by George Root & Ben­ja­min R. Han­by (Chi­ca­go, Il­li­nois: Root & Ca­dy, 1867).

Music: George F. Root (🔊 pdf nwc).

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George F. Root


I wan­dered just at ev­en,
Beside the sound­ing sea;
The whis­per­ing winds of Hea­ven
Their sto­ry told to me;
The east wind said, I’m hast­ing
From tro­pic Gang­es’ wave;
Where child­ren they were cast­ing
Within a wa­te­ry grave.


A soft wind whis­pered,
Who will send or go,
To teach the hea­then
Jesus’ love to know?

The north wind told its sto­ry,
With one swift an­gry blast,
Of In­di­an of­fer­ings go­ry,
It saw, in rush­ing past;
Where far off north­ern na­tions
In for­ests dark and deep,
With fear­ful in­can­ta­tions
Their hea­then vigils keep.


The south wind said, I’m tell­ing
Of po­lar south­ern night;
When an­gry surg­es swell­ing,
The dark­ened souls afright;
I saw no of­fer­ing burn­ing;
No in­cense filled the air;
No souls to God were turn­ing;
No gods they wor­ship there!


The ev­en­ing winds passed o’er me,
The an­gry north­ern blast,
Across the sea be­fore me,
Went hast­ing, far and fast;
The ze­phyrs ceased their wail­ing,
And in my heart, I heard,
This pro­mise, ne­ver fail­ing,
The earth shall know the Lord!