Now swinging slow, and slanting low,
It almost level lies;
And yet I know, while to and fro
I watch the seeming pendule go
With restless fall and rise,
The steady shaft is still upright,
Poising its little globe of light.
O hand of God! O lamp of peace!
O promise of my soul!--
Though weak, and tossed, and ill at ease,
Amid the roar of smiting seas,
The ship's convulsive roll,
I own, with love and tender awe,
Yon perfect type of faith and law!
A heavenly trust my spirit calms,
My soul is filled with light:
The ocean sings his solemn psalms,
The wild winds chant: I cross my palms,
Happy as if, to-night,
Under the cottage-roof, again
I heard the soothing summer-rain.
* * * * *
BULLS AND BEARS.
[Continued.]
CHAPTER V.
WHICH TREATS OF THE MODESTY OF CANDIDATES FOR OFFICE.
Mr. Sandford sat in his private room. Through the windows in front were
seen the same bald and grizzly heads that had for so many years given
respectability to the Vortex Company. The contemplation of the cheerful
office and the thought of its increasing prosperity seemed to give him
great satisfaction; for he rubbed his white and well-kept hands,
settled his staid cravat, smoothed his gravely decorous coat, and
looked the picture of placid content.
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