The Oxford Bible. On Worn-Out Sails Being Used as Material for the Manufacture of Paper on Which Bibles Are Printed
The breezes free of the great white sea
Have filled us with strength and life;
And the ocean gales have driven our sails
In the midst of the billows’ strife.
To the South from North have we oft gone forth
To sail o’er the bright sunny seas;
We’ve been kissed by an air most pure and fair,
And been lulled by the evening breeze.
Full many a time, in a tropic clime,
We’ve been wooed by the sun’s hot breath,
And mid frozen hail we have felt the flail
Of the Lord of the Ice and Death.
Under stormy skies, amid Nature’s cries,
We have struggled and fought for life,
And then wearied and worn with work well borne,
We have finished our early strife.
Our labours had ceased, and we were released
From the sun and the winds and the gales,
Our voyages passed, we sank down at last
As old, tattered, and worn-out sails.
But we now rise again with glad refrain,
We rise in a book of peace,
Amid hymn and psalm, and words of balm,
And a message which ne’er shall cease.
And risen we find our sea is the mind,
Our voyage is fair and free;
Through brain and through soul, we pass to the goal
Of God and Eternity.
Marie.