XVI. 



LOW PEICES AND LONG FACES. 



DAYS weeks months how you drift away ! 

 bearing the present time with all its clamorous and 

 busy sounds of life, into that long wake that 

 stretches far farther than the eye can reach 

 behind us ! How you float past boiling and 

 tumultuous at first, as just escaped from the din 

 and turmoil that marks the everlasting conflict of 

 our onward course then gently and deceitfully 

 subsiding off with only a rising ripple here and 

 there, that beckons to the eye and tells of something 

 that will be remembered some duty unperformed 

 some happiness perceived too late ; then, at last, 

 sinking away into the smooth surface that stretches 

 far behind in undistinguishable outline, blending 

 near things and remote into one great PAST, and 

 leaving us to wonder at the intensities of fear and 

 hope, of vanity and usefulness, of evil and of good, 



