“And point to perils, when our bark lay tossing
In that dread passage which we here call Life,
And betwixt shoals and rocks we steered our crossing
Unto the shore, where we have done with strife.
“From seas tumultuous the sands have barred it;
From there we watch the white sails fleeting by.
Old age is never drear, if we regard it
As the safe harbor where the old boats lie.”
[1] Died since this was put in type.