ORIGINAL.
THE CRY.
I sail on an ocean at midnight.
With darkness above and below;
And never a star in the heaven
To pilot me where I would go.
Fierce tempests that roar in the midnight,
The tempests both cruel and strong,
Are driving me hither and thither;
What wonder if I should go wrong?
Many thousands of others are sailing,
Like me, o'er this tempest-vexed sea,
All bound for the very same haven,
All bound to the same land with me.
But some to the leftward are sailing.
Whilst others they steer to the right;
I oft hear the voice of the captains
Who hail me aloud through the night.
Each one, though so diversely sailing,
Calls out to me, "You are astray!
For this is the course you should steer by
To enter the kingdom of day.
"See, yonder the light shineth clearly,
Right full on the way that we go."
But which is the right and the true way,
Oh! tell me, for how can I know.
I look where they're pointing before them,
But never a star do I see;
Where they tell me the beacon is shining
Is nothing but darkness to me.
My soul is athirst with its longing
To rest on the beautiful shore.
Where is felt not the surge of the billows.
Where the tempest is heard nevermore:
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Where the gardens of amaranth blossom,
And meadows of green asphodel
Fill the air with a fragrance immortal;
Where the satisfied voyagers dwell
Who have passed o'er this ocean before me,
And rest with the holy of old,
In the city whose walls are of jasper.
And roofs of the finest of gold.
O Lord of the wonderful city!
O King of the kingdom of day!
Let the light of thy truth shine out clearly
To pilot me safe on my way!
THE ANSWER.
I hear thee, my child, in the darkness;
I know where thou wishest to be:
But why in a pilotless vessel
Didst venture alone on this sea?
Thy way is in doubt and in darkness.
Because thou dost voyage alone,
Rejecting the old Ship of safety.
To choose a frail bark of thine own.
That vessel is sailing beside thee.
Its course the great Pilot controls.
The tempest will ne'er overcome it—
It never will wreck on the shoals.
Who sail in this old Ship of safety,
Know nothing of doubt or of strife.
How can they with him who commands it—
The Way, and the Truth, and the Life?
And all through the mist and the darkness
Faith shows a mysterious way,
O'er which sails the good ship of Peter
Straight on to the kingdom of day!
A.Y.
ORIGINAL.
THE GODFREY FAMILY;
OR, QUESTIONS OF THE DAY.
CHAPTER XXIV.
DEATH OF MRS. GODFREY.
A missive soon brought M. Bertolot to the trio. He came as secretly as possible, and departed in the same way; not so secretly, however, as to prevent his visit being shortly made known to Alfred Brookbank, who, with the view of making a final breach between Sir Philip and his wife, had set spies to watch the movements of the party. He discovered from the jealousy of the neighbors the intimacy at the Irish cottage, and surmised the attraction which produced these visits, but could make no use of this surmise until his agent recognized in M. Bertolot the French priest who had accompanied the countess to England. The secrecy of the visit told its purport. Alfred now informed Sir Philip, as if he had just made the discovery, that Annie had been in Eugene's company all the time she had been away; that Catholics were their only society, and that a priest visited them in secret, adding that there could be no rational doubt that Lady Conway and her mother were both Catholics.
Sir Philip's indignation was excessive. Without taking time to consider the matter at all, he ordered his carriage and drove post-haste to Estcourt Hall, to which place the family were now summoned in consequence of the increasing weakness of Mrs. Godfrey.