62 Transactions. 



Before thee far expands the deep, 



Nor shore nor haven nigh, 

 And thou hast no watch-tower on the steep, 



No star in the moonless sky. 



Behind thee fast recedes the land. 



Between high rolls the wave, 

 And all unskilled is thy little hand 



So wild a sea to brave. 



Unknown, untravelled is the bourne 

 Of the land thy oar must win ; 



Another night is long ere dawn of morn 

 On thy dreary path begin. 



Some angel hand on the distant strand, 



Or golden mountains high, 

 A beacon raise, to point the land 



When thy hour of peril's nigh. 



The bark, now far in the waves embraced, 



Was faintly sinking away. 

 When the scowl of heaven grew bright apace 



With the purpling break of day. 



And the hills of a green and fairy land 

 Appeared on the verge of the deep, 



And strains were heard of some holy band 

 Like music in midnight sleep. 



And spirits bright as orbs of light. 



In shining throngs were seen. 

 With crowns of gold, in their robes of white, 



And palms of evergreen. 



They beckoned him on with angel smiles, 



Away to their bowers of bless ; 

 And they hailed him home to their sunny isles. 

 With the songs of paradise. 



They led him by pure and living streams. 



And wiped his weeping eyes ; 

 And they bound his hair with radiant beams 



Of the rainbow's yellow dyes. 



In glittering ranks they moved, all bright 



And glorious to behold ; 

 Each one in his panoply of light, 



With a lyre of burning gold. 



And sweet were the melting strains that broke 

 O'er the ocean's azure swell ; 



