TIME'S BROAD OCEAN by S. Elmer

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 18, 1860

TIME'S BROAD OCEAN.

By S. Elmer

I stood beside an ocean wide, 'Twas at the close of day, And thousands stood on that dark brink, And fearless launched away. Among them were the hoary head, The child, the man of care, The high and low of every rank, And thoughtless youth were there.

How strange that they in such frail barks, Should dare to stem the tide; And stranger still that they should all Embark without a guide. Though false guides many lurked around, To beckon strangers on, Who would not own until too late, That they were going wrong.

Carnal Security was there, Who boasted of his skill, And Worldly Honor with his sons, And obstinate Self-will. And Pride and Fashion fluttered round, With many a gaudy show, And daily led their thousands on, To wretchedness and woe.

While mists of superstition hid, The rocks and quicksands there; And further on their passage lay The whirlpool of despair. Still rose before their fancied sight, Bright scenes and visions fair; While clamorous shouts and noisy mirth Rang wildly on the air.

Now just across the billowy sea, There stood a harbor fair, Built by the royal King of heaven, With many mansions there. And next I saw a famous ship, Out on the trackless main, Bravely it stood each swelling surge, That harbor fair, to gain.

And there were valiant souls on board, The chosen and the true, Who for a home on that bright shore, Had bade their own adieu. And did they leave the thoughtless crew Without a warning given, Thus rushing to the pit below, With no sweet hope of heaven?

Oh no! they raised the warning voice, As loudly they did call, Make haste, they cried, and come on board, There's room enough for all. Our ship is large and able too To cross the ocean wide, All will be safe that stay therein: We have a skillful Guide.

Mark you those fearful clouds that rise, They speak of danger near; You have no covert from the storm, But we've a shelter here. The way you go leads down to wo, To darkness and despair, Nor can you stem the dangerous tide, You have no pilot there.

O how it pained the tender hearts, Of their relation dear, As scoffs and sneers and vile reproach, Fell frequent on the ear. But few there were that broke away And bade their friends adieu, And hastened on their way with joy, To join the faithful few.

The mass was left nor would they hear, But rushing madly on, The warning died upon the ear, And the dark night came on. And loudly did the torrent roar, Then came the lightnings' flash, The thunders pealed from shore to shore, While the wild surges dashed

O'er their frail barks, and as they fell Their strength and courage fail, Their fruitless shrieks and cries for help, Were mingled with the gale. The tempest bursts upon their heads, And louder thunders roar, Then in the whirlpool of despair, They sink to rise no more. S. ELMER. Ashfield, Mass.