Upon the margin of Eternity;
Where the rough waves of Time’s impetuous tide
Their motion lose, and quietly subside.
Weary, they roll their drowsy heads asleep
At the dark entrance of Duration’s deep.
Hither our vessels in their turn retreat;
Here still they find a safe untroubled seat,
When worn with adverse passions, furious strife,
And the hard passage of tempestuous life.
Blackmore.