Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1904-03-26

the waters upon our American shores.
The loved ones and the scenes of former
times are left far in the distance-the
old homestead in which they romped
and played; the old fields in which they
helped to gather in the harvests: the old
woods where they picnicked many an
hour in May or went hunting for the
first flowers of the springtide; and the
old familiar walks along which they
strolled arm in arm beneath the soft
light of the stars and whispered their
secrets of love-those walks ended at the
pulpit of the village church for a mo-
ment, and then merging into one path
for the rest of the journey of life. never
to diverge again, except at the grave.
They have now come into new scenes;
and now and then the heart grows sick
for the sight of vanished faces and the
touch of vanished hands: and many a
tear courses down the cheek over the
memory of what once was. but now is
no more. An ocean rolls between them
and the old folk at home.
oh. how they often look out across the
sea. long for the vision that might focus
thousands of miles. But they have no
such vision. Alas. for them.
Then great changes occur. The pho
tograph that now aud then falls to hand
through the foreign mail gives view of
brows traced with lines where before
never "a wrinkle had been plowed, and
over those brows are seen snow-driftcd
locks where once raven hair or chestnut
or golden was worn in browning beau.
ty. "How father and mother have fail
ed" they exclaim.
In later days comes letter all border
ed with black-the escutcheon of the
mightiest monarch in all the earth-and
the heartbreaking story gathers to it.
self greater pathos. How wide then ap
pears the sea. Ii is stretched out like
the sky, seeming to be infinite i'm width.
Ii has no bounds. Cruel, merciless sea !.
Thoughts somewhat like these of mine
must have sounded their minor notes
within the brain of the aged Apostle.
He was an exile, banished by the decree
of Roman emperor to bleak and rugged
Patmos. a lonely island in the Aegean
Sea. Far away to the south east. miles
meaning moro then than they do now,
was the home of his young manhood.
There. sailing on the blue waves of Gal
lice. he had often cast the net of fish
erman and gained livelihood. Under
Galilee's bright skies he had followed
his Master in loving discipleship. Not
a long distance off. in one of the dwell
ings of Jerusalem, at the last supper. he
had leaned his head upon the bosom of
Jesus. The past all came back to him.
What wizard is memory. He lived
ever again the scenes of those early
days. But they were now gone. Around
him was the dividing sea. Heartless,
tyrannical sea!
But there came a vision of better
country. He saw the new earth, angel
lifted, and aglow with the uncreated
glory of God; and about 1t was not one
oceanic band of mocking silver. How
his fingers must have trembled, as he
wrote the inspired sentence that an.
swered the yearnings of his expatriated
soul. "And there was no more sea"
The winds that sighed around his form
whispered il: mo more sea-" The
waves that rushed in rongh embrace
against the rocks at his feet echoed it,:
mo moro sea-" His own heart leaped
up and repeated il DER and DER: mo
more sea. No more sea, No more sea-"
Similar visions greet the eyes of
Christian faces. Banished as they are
upon the Patmos of an inhospitable
world. and longing for Home. they are
separated from those they dearly love,
the ocean of death rolling between them
and those who once gladdened with their
presence the fircsides of earth. and for
whose companionship they often weari-
ly sigh. as they tread in loneliness life's
Swallowed strand. Oh. how comforting
are Gods pictures of yonder world
where no divisions occur. That world
shall afford one unbroken reunion of
sundered hearts; and there shall he no
spectre of distance or of the grave to cast
around its baleful gloom. Triumphant
expression. And there was no more
sea-
No wonder that the old father in the
parable. whose son went off and dis
graced him. had the family mansion
lighted for festivity and the banquet
spread when the prodigal returned. 1t
was the flaming up of the love of his
bosom and the feast of his heart He
was glad to get his boy b ,ck again.
What then shall be the rapture in the
house of many mansions when all of the
redeemed shall have been gathered home
to go no more out forever: What shouts
shall rend the fragrant air. What clasp
ing of hands in undying affection! What
songs shall answer the pealing of the
SILVER DtilS. 10. L see III SUiUluR out
behind the figure of the text with more
splendor than that of the sun as it rises
over the worlds fading night. all the
lustre. all the undreamed of radiance.
all the far more exceeding and eternal
weight of glory that tarries for the final
lifting of the veil of bereavement. Like
John Bunyan. who caught in his ale
CORY glimpse of heaven. saving in his
quaint way, "And after that they shut
the gates: which when I had seen.
wished myself among them could
breathe the desire to be back of that
veil. But il is for you and me to wait,
attending to life's duties as they fall to
hand, loving those who are with us in
life's way, going forward with no fall
tering steps. and down in the heart won
drously glad that some day. if we have
chosen Alright. we shall know what is
fully meant by the mystic words, land
THERE WAS No MORE SEA-"