The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1916-04-22

coulu. VI lie we know but little
except that it is a narrow vale be-
tween two eternities We strive to
look beyond its heights and our eyes
fail US. We cry aloud for more of
the future and the only message that
Since we have been travelling to-
! gether So long, may We take one trip
(, together on life's boat ere we part.
I The ship is anchored in the harbor,
keeping unison with the movement
of the pillows. waiting for you to
take passage. Everything will soon
be ready. Yes, we are leaving port
and with each thud of the engine
! comes the trembling of the boat.
! Happy, happy moments, Never so
happy again. Ideals and pictures of
beauty engage us for the moment.
Day dreams of what we wish to, or,
have, or do; our good intentions and
, vivid pictures of life will no doubt
4 iShP no III thC lluS6lc thdI lb
to come. The shores. with their leafy
beauties, we leave behind us like this
happy occasion and other pleasures
in the Lakeland high school, and
pass on to greater fields and greater
dreams. Isles and other shores greet
us and meet us and adorn our yeasty
path, and then fade away into float
ing specters of beauty-of haze-of
distant life-the memories of child
hood. You are dreaming dreams
and seeing visions; your thoughts
wander over the universe and the
whole area of life; your affections
and duties are centered on some big
event, great happening, or some de-
are the windows tc the divine treas
IRE house and they are shattered on
| the shoals of time and tossed into
| the midst of the deep; you beholG
your weakness and your lost efforts
as they float out into the breeze and
j whirl empty-handed into space. You
resolve again with high purposes
and clinch them with greater de-
termination only to find that they
I will slip from you as others have
gone before. The ship sails on and
the bow looks rugged, the mast be-
gins to decay. The passionate dreams
of youth begin to break up and with
err, and we find ripper Judgment of
womanhood and manhood. You, for
the first time, get an ennobling con-
seriousness of that greater life which
is dawning on you. The years have
been rocking by and youth rises from
dashed hopes into the stature of a
man.
The soul does not wither at the
Rubicon, for hope is the last thing
to die in man. These hopes are not
those of fond boyhood and girlhood,
but those of experience. They are
sober and practical; they are sensible
and reasonable Manhood and wom-
anhood are now yours. Yes, twenty
years have flown, and there are six
or eight left; others have taken
shore-leave at the various ports of
anchor. And the ship sails on. The
SUD has been shining for many years,
giving off radiant light, but the
clouds begin to drift their ragged
edges over the golden disc and, little
by little, the light will soon be gone.
Old age has come and with 1t
thoughts more serious. Life is al
most gone, and you become discour-
aged. Remember the little poem:
when thou dost feel life's vessel stranded
Full length upon the shifting sand.
And nearest the breakers close at hand;
Re strong and wait. Nor let the strife
With which the wind and waves are rife
Disturb that inner sacred life.
Anon thou shall regain the shore,
And walk though naked MANNED and sore
A nober being than before"
Old and lottery, one more look
across the bow of the ship into the
unseen and the unknown, and may
there be golden sunset upon we'll
spent life When life is all but gone,
may hope see a star and the listening
love hear the rustic of wing.
May happy dreams be yours tonight
May all your life he glad and bright
Until the last good might,