Classic Poem

W E'RE all afloat in a leaky boat
On Time's tempestuous sea;
Death at the helm steers for his realm—
A motley crew are we.
Through waters wide on ev'ry side,
Away to sunken shoals,
He steers us o'er to Passion's roar,
The heave of living souls.

We hear the splash, the heavy dash,
The weary, weary moan;
Embark'd in woe, we only know
We sail the great unknown:
Some telling tales of happy vales
That lie beyond the gloom;
While Greed and Spite are at their fight
For one more inch of room.

And Fraud and Pride, they push aside
The weak ones and the old;
While curses deep from mad hearts leap,
They've huddled in the hold.
'Tis sad to hear 'mid tempest drear
The selfish crew go on:
They curse and swear, all snarling there,
As dogs do o'er a bone.

Anon, in brief but sweet relief,
Amidst the fighting throng,
Some poor waif starts to cheer our hearts
In blessed voice of song:
He sings of peace, the heart's increase,
When Love o'er th' crew shall reign;
The rudest hear with willing ear,
Each heart cries out “Amen!”