Toggle Dropdown Serif Sans-serif Monospaced Dyslexic Bold Italic Font size: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Mark as read [object Object] Only page of title 188 7 Easy In the great ship Life we speed along, With sails and pennons spread. And tethered, beside the great ship, glide The mystic boats for the dead. Over the deck of the ship of Life Our loved and lost we lower. And calm and steady, his small boat ready, Death silently sits at the oar. He rows our dead away from our sight -- Away from our hearing or ken. We call and cry for a last good-bye, But they never come back again. The ship of Life bounds on and on; The river of Time runs fast; And yet more swift our dear dead drift For ever back into the Past. We do not forget those loved and lost, But they fade away like a dream: As we hurry along on the current strong Of Time's great turbulent stream. On and on, and ever away, Our sails are filled by the wind; We see new places, we meet new faces, And the dead are far behind. Their boats have drifted into the sea That laves God's holy feet. But the river's course, too, seeks that source, So the ship and the boat shall meet. End of title Sign in to unlock this title Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit. Links External resources bookshop Wikipedia Project Gutenberg Goodreads Google Books
In the great ship Life we speed along, With sails and pennons spread. And tethered, beside the great ship, glide The mystic boats for the dead.
Over the deck of the ship of Life Our loved and lost we lower. And calm and steady, his small boat ready, Death silently sits at the oar.
He rows our dead away from our sight -- Away from our hearing or ken. We call and cry for a last good-bye, But they never come back again.
The ship of Life bounds on and on; The river of Time runs fast; And yet more swift our dear dead drift For ever back into the Past.
We do not forget those loved and lost, But they fade away like a dream: As we hurry along on the current strong Of Time's great turbulent stream.
On and on, and ever away, Our sails are filled by the wind; We see new places, we meet new faces, And the dead are far behind.
Their boats have drifted into the sea That laves God's holy feet. But the river's course, too, seeks that source, So the ship and the boat shall meet.
