Storms bring her up deep things of ocean’s produce,
Prized the more highly in the storm pursued.
With joy each day I’ll take the wings of morning,
Dwell in the utmost parts of this lone sea;
E’en there thy hand shall lead me, still adoring,
And thy right hand shall hold who trust in Thee.
ROUND THE HORN.
It became stormy in the afternoon of December 21st, with rain. We were driven off our course. The sea came over the sides of the main deck. The motion of the ship was that of a rocking horse. She was so full of a cantering spirit that I knew it would be useless to expect sleep in my berth, so I lay upon a cabin sofa and had rest. The waves were Cape Horn swells. We are directly at the foot of the American continent inclining upwards toward the North. Should we do as well the rest of the way as the preceding, we shall be a hundred and twelve days only from New York to San Francisco. We were all on deck this afternoon enjoying the Cape Horn scenery. The captain and I talked of an event in our family history when he was eight years old, which made this day memorable. We did not then dream of going round Cape Horn twenty-one years from that day. “O how great is thy goodness which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee, which thou hast wrought for them which trust in thee before the sons of men.”
DANGERS IN THE CABIN.
Dec. 24. The gale to-day exceeded anything which we have had. The sight of the ocean was wild beyond description. I went on deck and held on, to see the tempest. The ship went down into deep places, more profound, seemingly, than ever before. But she is a noble sea boat. We have understood how men become enthusiastically attached to the vessel which they are ready to think has consciously borne them around the globe.