Over the ocean of life's commotion
    We sail till the night comes on.
Sail and sail in a tiny boat,
    Drifting wherever the billows go.
Out on the treacherous sea afloat,
    Beat by the cruel winds that blow,
Hither and thither our boat is drawn,
    Till the day dies out and the night comes on.

Over a meadow of light and shadow
    We wander with weary feet,
Seeking a bauble men call "Fame,"
    Grasping the dead-sea fruit named "wealth,"
Finding each but an empty name,
    And the night--the night steals on by stealth.
And we count the season of slumber sweet,
    When hope lies dead in the arms of defeat.

Over the river a great Forever,
    Stretches beyond our sight.
But I know by the glistening pearly gates
    Afar from the region of strife and sin,
A beautiful angel always waits
    To welcome the sheep of the shepherd in.
And out of the shadows of gloom and night,
    They enter the mansion of peace and light.

Poems of reflection. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
Chicago, M.A. Donohue & company, [c1905].

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