In a ship that went out from the harbor of Life,
To be lost in the chaos, w here infinite night

Its infinite shadows is hfting —

Sailing out from the Earth through the ocean of sky.
Where cloud-isles in glor\- are lying.
To catch a last glimpse of the headlands of Heaven,
But to bid them a longing, eternal good-bye,
And drift out in the dark with the dying —

In a doom-guided ship without compass or helm,

To be daring the darkness forever,
Witli a shroud for a sail, while the desolate mast
Is cleaving a path through the desolate realm

That the living and dying must sever.
O terrible voyage where God \\-ill forsake !

O voyage with never an ending,
And never a place to cast anchor again,
While the horror of darkness that covers our wake

With the horror before us is blending,

Till the eye and the ear forget vision and sound,

In the silence to darkness replying ;
And e'en the dread power of dissolving in space
Would be bliss, to the soul in its loneliness bound.
Where living is infinite dying.
Poetry and Prose of Marie R. Butler. j/



CAMP NELSON.
'T is May ; and on the hillside green

The apple blossoms fall,
And clovers set their roots between

The boulders in the wall.
Above the pond the tall trees bend,

To watch its quiet rest ;
And, murmuring, chide the winds that send

A ripple o'er its breast.
The blue of heaven is mirrored there ;

And stars, reflected bright.
Have gazed, until the waters fair

Have buried half their light.
