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Tokeus are dead if the things do not live.
light everlasting Unto the blind man is not, bnt is born of the eye
that has vision. JNeither in bread nor in wine, bnt in the heart
that is hallowed Lieth forgiveness eushrined; the intention alone
of amendment Fruits of the earth eunobles to heaveuly things,
and removes nil Sin and the gnerdon of sin. Ouly Love with his
arms wide extended, Penitence weeping and praying; the Will that is
tried, and whose gold flows Purified forth from the flames; in a word, mankind by Atonement Breaketh Atonement's bread, and drinketh
Atonement's wine-cup. Bnt he who cometh up hUher, unworthy, with
hate in his bosom, Scoffing at men and at God, is guilty of Christ's
blessed body. And the Redeemer's blood! To himself he cateth
and drinketh Death and doom! And from this preserve us,
tlion heaveuly Father! Are yc ready, ye children, to eat of the bread of
Atonement?" Thus with emotion he asked, and together answered the children Yes! with deep sobs interrupted. Then read he
the dne supplicatious, Read the Form of Conuminion, and in chimed
the organ and antticiti: O! Holy Lamb of God, who tukest away onr
The Hear us! give us thy yeace! have merey, have
merey upon us: Th' old mun, with trembiinc hand, and heaveuly
pearls upon his eyelids. Fllled now the chulfeo and paten, and dealt
ronnd the mystical symbols. Oh! thai seemed it to me, us if God, with the
broad eye of mid-day. Clearer looked in at the windows, and all the
trees in the churehyard Bowed down their Mnmnits of green, and the
Crass on the graves 'gan to shiver. Bnt in the children (I noted it well; I knew it)
there ran a Tremor of holy rapture along throngh their ieycold members. Decked like an altar before them, there stood
the green earth, ami above it Heaven opened itself, us of old before Stephen;
they saw there Radiant in glory the Father, and on his right
hand the Redeemer. Under them hear they the clung of harpstrings,
and angels from gold clonds Beckon to them like brothers, and fan with their
pinious of purple. Closed was the Teacher's tn.dc, and with heaven in their hearts and their faces, Uprose the children all. and each bowed him,
weeping full sorely, Downward to kiss t hnt reverend hand, bnt all
of them pressed he. Moved to his bosom, and laid with a praver, his
hands full of blessings. Now on the holy breast, and now on the Innocent
BY THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE.
Hours ronnd abont him voices as it darkeus. And secing not the forms from which they come. Pauses from time to time, and turus and hearkeus;
So walking'here in twilight, O my friends!
I hear yonr voices, softened by'the distance. And pause, and turn to listen, as each sends
His words of friendship, comfort, and assistance.
If any thonght of mine, or sung or told.
Has ever given delight or cousolation,
By every friendly sigu and salntation.
.thanks for each Kindly word, cacli silent token, That teaches me, when seeming most alone
friends are aronnd us, thongh no word be
Kind messages, that pass from land to land:
In which we feel the pressure of a hand,—
The pleasant books that silently among
And are to us as if a living tongne
p»r!;aps on earth I never shall behold,
Therefore to mo yon never will grow old. lint live for ever yonng in my remembrance.
Never grow old, nor change, nor pass awav I
wi,TMri,?entlc T0i,ces wi" now 0» /or ever. When life grows bare, and farnished with decav. As throngh a leafless landscape flows a river.
N?!„?,','Snef.of !'-irth or Place 1,as "Moo >is friends, nationTM " "!""rent tongnes and
BS5.tte c,nde'avour for the selfsame ends.
So S"m0 h0P°S' and felu'3' "nd usl'!ra
Therefore I hope to join yonr sea-side walk.
Nor interrupting with intrusive talk
Therefore I hope, as no unwelcome guest
flighted""TM nresWc' when tne laTMPs are
xwIf.T !ilaec reserv',|l among the rest, INor stand as one uusonght or uninvited!
BY THE SEASIDE.
THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP. "Build rac straight, O worthy Master!
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel. That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!" The merehant's word Delighted the Master heard: For his heart was in his work, and the heart GIveth grace unto every Art. A. quiet smile played ronnd his lips, As the eddies and dimples of the tide Play ronnd the bows of ships, That steadily at anchor ride. And with a voice that was full of glee He auswered, "Ere long wo will launch A vessel as gOodly. and strong, and staunch. As ever weathered a wintry sea!" And first with nicest skill and art, Perfeet and finished in evev part, Al ittle model the Master wronght, Winch shonld be to the larger plan What the child is to the man, Its connterpart in miniature; That with a hand more swift and sure The greater labonr might be bronght To answer to his inward thonght. And as he labonred his mind ran o'er Ihe varions ships that were built of yore. And above them all, and strangest of all. Towered the Great Harry, crank and tall. Whose pieture was hanging here and there. And sigual lanterus and flags afloat, And eight ronnd towers, like those that frown From some old castle, looking down Upon the drawbridge and (lie moat. 1.. „, 8"ld w"h n smllc. "Our ship, I wis, bhall bo of another form than this.'
It was of another form, indeed:
Built for freight, and yet for sliced,
A beantiful and gallant craft;
Broad in the beam, that the stress of the blast.
1 ressing down upon sail and mast.
Might not the sharp bows overwheim •
Broad in the beam, hnt sloping aft
With graceful curve and slow degrees.
That she might be docile to the heim.
And that the currents of parted seas.
Closing behind, with mighty foree.
Might aid and not impede her conrse.
In the ship-yard stood the Master,
With the model of the vessel,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!
And scattered here and there, with those,
The knarred and crooked cedar knees;
Bronght from regious far away,
From Pascagonhi's suuny hay'
And the hanks of the roaring Roanoke!
Ah! what a wondrons thing it is
To note how many wheels of toll
One thonght, one word, can set in motion I
There's not a ship that sails the ocean,
Bnt every climate, every soil,
Must bring its tribnte, great or small.
And help i0 build the wooden wall I
The sun was rising o'er the sea,
Beantiful, they were, in sooth.
The old man and the fiery yonth!
The old man, in whose busy brain
Many:a ship that sailed the main
Was modelled o'er and o'er again;—
The fiery yonth, who was to be
The heir of his dexterity,
The heir of hishonse, and his daughter's hand,
When he had built and launched from land
What the elder head had plauned.
"Thus," said he, "will we build this ship;
Lay square the blocks upon the slip,
And follow well this plan of mine.
Choose the timbers with greatest care;
Of all that is uusonnd beware;
For ouly what is sonnd and strong
To this vessel shall belong,
Cedar of Maine and Georgia pine
Here together shall combine.
A goodly frame, and a goodly fame,
And the Union be her name!
For the day that gives her to the sea
Shall give my daughter unto thee!"
The Master's word
Euraptured the yonng man heard;
And as ho turned his face aside,
With a look of joy and a thrill of pride,
Her father's door.
He saw the form of his promised bride.
The sun shone on her golden hair,
And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair,
With the breath of morn and the soft sea air,
Like a beanteons barge was she,
Still at rest on the sandy beach.
Just beyond the billow's reach;
Was the restless, seething, stormy sea!
Ah. how skilful grows the hand
Thus with the rising of the sun
Was the noble task begun,
And soon thronghont the ship-yard's bonnds
Were heard the intermingled sonnds
Of axes and of mallets, applied
Witli vigorons arms on every side!
Piled so deftly and so well,
That, ere the shadows of evening fell,
The keel of oak for a noble ship,
Scarfed and bolted, straight and strong,
Day by day the vessel grew,
With timbers fashioned strong and trne,
fltemson and keelson and steruson-knee,
Till, framed with perfeet symmetry,
A skeleton shfp rose up to View!
And aronnd the bows and aronnd the side
The heavy hammers and mallets plied,
Till after many a week, at length,
Wonderful for form and strength,
Sublime in its enormons hulk,
Loomed aloft the shadowy hulk!
And aronnd it columus of smoke upwreathing,
Rose from the boiling, bubbling, seething
Cauldron that glowed,
With the black tar, heated for the sheathing.
And amid the clamonrs
Of clattering hammers,
He who listened heard now and then
The song of the Master and his men :—
"Build me straight. O worth Master,
That shall laugh at all disaster,
With oaken brace and copper band,
Lay the rndder on the sand.
That, like a thonght shonld have control
Over the movement of the whole;
And near it the anchor whose giant hand
Wonld reach down and grapple with the land,
And immovable and fast
Hold the great ship agaiust the bellowing blast?
And at the bows an image stood.
By cuuning artist carved in wood,
With robes of white that far behind
Seemed to be flnttering in the wind.
It was not shaped in a classic monld,
Nor like a Nymph or Goddess of old,
Or Naiad rising from the water,
Bnt modelled from the master's daughter!
On many a dreary and misty night,
'Twill be seen by the rays of the sigual light,
Speeding along throngh the rain and the dark.
Like a (,'host in its show-white sark,
The pilot of somc phantom bark,
(iniding the vessel in its flight,
By a path none other knows aright!
Behold, at Iust,
In the deer-haunted forests of Maine,
When upon monntain and plain
Lay the suow,
They fell,— those lordly pines!
Those grand, majestic pines!
'Mid shonts and cheers
The jaded steers,
Panting beneath the goad,
Dragged down the weary, winding road
Those captive kings so straight and tall,
To he shorn of their streaming hair,
And, naked and hare,
To feel the stress and the strain
Of the wind and the reeling main,
Wonld remind them for evermore
Of their native forests they shonld not see again.
The slender, graceful spars
Poise aloft in the air,
And at the mast-head,
White, blne, and red,
A flag uurolls the stripes and stars.
Ah! when the wanderer, lonely, friendless,
In foreigu harbonrs shall behold
That flag uurolled,
'Twill be as a friendly hand
Stretched ont from his native land,
Fllling his heart with memories sweet arid endless;
All is finished! and at length
Has come the bridal day
Of beanty and of strength.
To-day the vessel shall be launched!
With fleecy clonds the sky is blanched,
And o'er the bay,
Slowly, in nil his splendonrs dight,
The great sun rises to behold the sight
The ocean old,
Strong as yonth, and as uncontrolled,
Paces restless to and fro,
Up and down the sands of gold.
Hls beating heart is not nt rest;
And far and wide,
With ceaseless flow,
His beard of suow
Heaves with the heaving of his breast.
He waits Impatient for his bride.
There she stands.
With her foot upon the sands,
Decked with flags and streamers gay,
In hononr of her marriage day.
Her suow-white siguals flnttering, blending,
Ronnd her like a veil descending,
Ready to be
The bride of the gray, old sea.
On the deck another bride
The prayer is said,
The service read,
The joyons bridegroom hows his head;
And in tears the good old Master
Shakes the brown hand of his son,
Down his own the tears begin to run.
"Like unto ships far off at sea.
Ontward, or homeward bonnd, are we.
Before, behind, and all aronnd.
Floats and swings the horizon's bonnd,
Seems at its distant rim to rise
And climb the crystal wall of the skies,
And then again to turn and sink.
As if we conld slide from its onter brink.
Ah! it is not the sea.
It is not the sea that sinks and shelves,
That rock and rise
With endless and uneasy motion,
Now tonching the very skies,
Now sinking into the depths of ocean.
Ah! if onr sonls bnt noise and swing
Like the compass in its brazen ring,
Ever level and ever trne
To the toil and the task we have to do,
We shall securely, and safely reach
The Fortunate Isles, on whose shining beach
The sights we see, and the sonnds we hear,
Will be those of joy and not of fear!"
Then the Master
With a gesture of command,
Waved his hand;
And at the word,
Lond and sndden there was heard,
All aronnd.them and below.
The sonnd of hammers, blow on blow.
Knocking away the shores and spurs.
And see! she stirs!
She starts,—she moves.—she seems to feel
The thrill of life along her keel.
And. spurning with her foot the gronnd,
With one exulting, joyons bonnd.
She leaps into the ocean's arms!
And lo! from the assembled crowd
How beantiful she is! How fair
Sail forth into the sea, O ship!
Throngh wind and wave, right onward steer!
The moistened eye. the trembling lip,
Are not the sigus of donbt or fear.
Sail forth into the sea of life,
O gentle, loving, trusting wife,
And safe from all adversity
Upon the bosom of that sea
Thy comings and thy goings be!
For gentleness and love and trust
Prevail o'er angry wave and gust!
And in flic wreck of noble lives
TUon. too. sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears.
With all the hopes of fnture veurs.
Is hanging breathiess on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel.
What Workmen wronght thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, um! rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers boat,
In what a forge and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sndden sonnd and shock,
"Tis of the wave and not the rock;
'Tis bnt the flapping of the sail.
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the son!
Our hearts, onr hopes, are all with thee.
Our hearts, onr hopes, onr prayers, onr tears,
Our faith trinmphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee,—are all with thee!
THE EVENING STAR. Just above yon sandy bar,
As the day grows fainter und dimmer, Lonely and lovely, a single star
Lights the air with a dusty glimmer.
Into the ocean faint and far
Falls the trail of its golden splendonr, And the gleam of that single star
Is ever refulgent, soft, and tender.
Chrysaor rising ont of the sen.
Showed thus glorions and thus eumlons, Leaving the arms of Cailirrhoe,
For ever tender, soft, and treumlons.
Thus o'er the ocean faint and far
Trailed the gleam of his falchion brightly; Is it a God, or is it a star.
That, entranced, I gaze on nightly'
THE SECRET OF THE SEA.
Ah! what pleasant visious haunt ine,
As I gaze upon the sea!
All my dreams, come back to me.
Sails of silk and ropes of sendnl,
And the singing of the sailors.
Most of all, the Spanish ballad
Of the noble Connt Arnaldos
Like the long waves on a sen-beach,
With a soft, monotonons cadence,
Telling how the Connt Arnaldos,
Saw a fair and stately galley.
How he heard the ancient heimsman
That the sailing sea-bird slowly
Till his sonl was full of longing.
"Heimsman! for the love sf heaven.
"Wonldst thon,"—so the heimsman auswered,
'. Learn the secret of the sea? Ouly those who brave its dangers
Comprehend its mystery!''
In each sail that skims the horizon.
1 behold that stately galley.
TNI my sonl is full of longing,
For the secret of the sea.
Sends a thrilling pulse throngh me
The twilight is sad and clondy,
And like the wings of sea-birds
Bnt in the fisherman's cottnee,
There shines a rnddier light.
Peers ont into the night.
Close, close it is pressed to the window,
As if those childish eyes
To see some form arise.
And a woman's waving shadow
Is passing to and fro,
Now bowing and bending low.
And the night-wind, bleak and wild,
Tell to that little cliild?
And why do the roar ing ocean.
As they beat at the heart of the mother,
SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT.
Southwaed with fleet of Ice
Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and fast blew the blast,
And the east wind was his breath.
His lordly ships of Ice
Glistened in the sun;
Flashing crystal streamlets run.
His sails of white sea-mist
Dripped with silver ruin; Bnt where he passed there were cast
Leaden showers o'er the main.
Eastward from Campobello
Three days or more seaward he bore,
Alas! the land-wind failed,
And never more, on sea or shore.
He sat upon the deck,
"Do not fear! Heaven is as near."
In the first watch of the night.
Withont a sigual's s'?und. Ont of the sea. mysterionsly,
The fleet of Death rose all aronnd.
The moon and the evening star
Every mast, as it passed,