O ever-solitary sea, 
Of which we all have found 
Somewhat to dream or say—the type 
Of things without a bound— 
Love, long as life, and strong as death ; 
Faith, humble as sublime; 
Eternity, whose large depths hold 
The wrecks of this small Time. 
Miss MULOCK. 
And Nature, the old nurse, took 
The child upon her knee, 
Saying, “ Here is a story book 
Thy Father has written for thee.” 
LONGFELLOW. 
2 
