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 



