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Words: 25719 in 11 pages
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SOLITUDE.
BY W. T. SAWARD.
The wind is singing a lonely song, Down in the forest deep! And I watch and watch the whole day long, Till the evening shadows creep. O flowers of the dying autumn day, How can you bloom when my love's away!
The golden grain of the harvest falls Under the sickle's breath; And along the wood a spirit calls, Telling there is no death! For be it autumn, or be it spring, Some flowers will bloom, and some birds will sing!
The night falls dark o'er the Fatherland, Down to the stretching sea! O Star of Hope! with your silver wand, Guide him to home and me! That the morning may find us hand in hand In the light of the well-loved Fatherland.
THE HOUSE WITH THE VERANDAH.
DESIRE FULFILLED.
The great joy grew more credible when all its story was told.
He had been with them some months when some of the party secured a half-broken empty open boat, which seemed to have been washed off from a passing schooner. This they patched up, and then they began to think whether some of them might not make one last dash for the release of themselves and the rest. The "castaway" was quite ready to take to the sea again; he did not seem to know fear, or he believed he held a charmed life. He was an expert seaman, and of really powerful physique. Another must go with him, and another only. The captain's arm being still disabled, the man selected as fittest for the expedition was the first mate. Despite all dangers their wild voyage was safely accomplished; a civilised port was reached, and a little steamer was at once despatched to the island to bring off the rest of the shipwrecked party. The ship owners had determined not to be premature in giving this good news. They had waited till every report was verified. Now, any hour might bring telegrams from Captain Grant and Charlie that they were safe on American soil, and hastening across the continent to take their Atlantic passage home.
Of course there was wild and glad excitement in the little house with the verandah. But Lucy's own joy was still and solemn. The others thought her very strong and calm. But she knew that she often asked herself whether she were waking or dreaming? She knew that she realised anew the distance and the dangers between herself and her beloved. After the glad telegram duly arrived and she knew the very name of the Atlantic liner on which Charlie was speeding towards her, a clouded sky or a rising wind would suffice to make her tremble! Ah, she had learned
"to love as the angels may With the breadth of Heaven between,"
and the next lesson of her life was to be the bringing-down of that mountain-top vision of serenity and security, and the possessing of it still among the mists and twists of the level lands. She had learned that love is eternal, that love is safe when out of sight--now she had to learn that time is only a part of Eternity, and that what is safe out of our reach, cannot be in danger while it is within it.
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