Through their ages of splendor, their waning away,
Till their last mould’ring relic succumbed to decay.
And so, till Jehovah’s dread voice bids thee stay,
And the night is absorbed by Eternity’s day,
Thou shalt in thine orbit thy mission pursue,
A bright silver ship in an ocean of blue.
—Geo. M. Vickers.
The Suicide.
The sun had set. The ruddy clouds
Had changed to gloomy gray,