The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-10-10

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feeble and unsteady hand. Sometimes
we are lost in the Quick sands Of Ingra.
E6tude; sometimes we go to pieces on the
REX of Treachery, or are engulfed in
the whirlpool of Despair. So ends the
voyage OF life with those who fix their
hearts and affections upon the fatal,
feeting pleasures of this world, and take
for their guide the passions of poor hu.
manity. o2 sy.i,a.
Those of us who turn nl1or: Our eyes from
the fascinating isle of beauty to the
brilliant orb above, and steer our vessel
by its light, glide swiftly
"O'er the glad waters Of the dark blue sea-
Our thoughts as boundless. and our hearts as
Free"
And though we may at first feels a ping
of regret in leaving the fairy land, yet it
will gradually grow less aud less, till all
is lost in the absorbing hope of gaining
our haven. 4 l,.u.. .ri, ia.
Yet, let us not for moment dream
that our voyage is to be all calm and
peaceful. Even now, ere the meridian
of life is reached, dark green pillows are
rolling towards us-innumerable clouds
obscure the hitherto bright horizon, and
loud winds howl over the wide ocean.
But we tear down the silken canvas of
Pleasure and Vanity, . and run up the
main sail of Virtue. In vain do storms
rage around US. Faith stands at the
helm, and guides our bark with unerring
hand. Strong is Faith, and if We do
but trust to her guidance, she will surely
lead US to the port of Heaven in safety.
| On the prov of our vessel, leaning on
silver anchor, is one more beautiful
than words have power to paint. Her
name is Hope. One white arm is raised
to Heaven, and the moveless finger
points ever to the star, of divine love,
which grows larger and brighter rs the
clouds thicken. 20,
The prime of life has swept by, and we
knew it not. The chestnut locks have
given place to silver hairs that cover fur
rows made by Care, on the once smooth
brow. The eye has become dim with
age. and has lost it's briiGancy, save when
it is lifted to that star, now changed into
a sun. whose rays kindle it with an un-
earthly and immortal lustre.
Before us lie the dismal waters of the
river of Death, black as Acheron; but we
fear them not-we do not dread to enter
in, for, beyond, we behold our long
sought home. Our bark is old and leaky.
1t may not traverse the thick, dark flood
80 we must go alone to the shining
shore. In we plunge boldly, straining
every nerve to reach the balmy land of
deathless flowers:
On trees immortal grow,
Where rocks, and hills, and groves and vale,
With milk and honey flow.
"No chilling winds, nor poisonous breath
Gan reach that healthful shorc-
Sickness and sorrow, pain and death
Are felt and feared no more"
The cold waves arc too strong for us!
We sink and are almost lost! when Faith
appears again, rescues and urges us on
ward. Legions of white-robed angels
invite and WOO us with their immortal
harpings. But there is One-a glorious,
peerless One-who also holds out His
arms to welcome us. One more struggle
and all is over. The gulf is past. The
goal is won, and we are nesting in the
bosom of God-who is our Star, our
Sun, our Faith. our Hone. our IoyeI