Voices of the Sea in Words of Holy Scripture, and of Standard English Literature. Collected by the Widow of a Naval Officer. Ed. by the Rector of Avington [J. James]. (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1866. Excerpt: ... ON THE VOYAGE OP LIFE. Is life a sea? oh no, 'tis steadier far. Is life a land? oh no, too fast 'tis driven. It is, beneath its guiding heavenly star, An island floating towards the coast of heaven. J.S. Still onwards as to southern skies We spread our sail, new stars arise; New lights upon the gleaming tide; Fresh hues where pearl and coral hide. And we would daily, nightly, draw Nearer to Thee in love and awe, Till in Love's home we pause at last, Our anchor in the deep heaven cast. The while, across the changing sea, Feeling our way we cling to Thee, Unchanging Lord and Thou dost mark For each his station in Thine Ark. Keble. If we look out upon the world at large, and hear of rumours of wars, and see the signs of internal disorder, and perhaps may think thatthe clouds are gathering which herald the coming of the Son of Man to judgment how blessed would it be, if we could see such an ark of Christ's Church as should float visibly upon the stormy waters; gathering within it, in peace and safety, men of various dispositions and conditions and opinions, --those who held much of truth, and those who had mixed it with much of error; those whom Christ would call clean, and those, too, whom some of their brethren call unclean, but whom Christ has redeemed, and will save, no less than their despisers; all, in short, who fled from sin and from the world to Christ, and to the company of Christ's people Oh, if we could but see such an ark preparing, while God's long-suffering yet withholds the flood Arnold. The sea of fortune doth not even flow: She draws her favours to the lowest ebb, Her tides have equal times to come and go; Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web. No joy so great but runneth to an end; No hap so hard but may in time amend. A chance m...