THE PRESIDENT.

BY THE AIrTHnR
{"character_count": 2020, "word_count": 378, "ccnet_language_score": [0.873199999332428], "ccnet_perplexity": [1653.4000244140625], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
BY THE AUTHOR OF "EcoLESIA." speak tor thou hast a voice, perpetual sea! LII up thy surges wi,h some signal word T., show where the pilgrims of the waters be- T UT "'loih nations thrilling heart is stirr'd. ,,, Down to the waves they went in joyous pride, lney ;rod with steadfast feet thy biowv way; <, ne eyes of wondering men behind them glide o"'it m the arrowy distance-where are they? N, ,DidSt thou arise upon that mighty frame, Nau mat the strength of man with thee should strive

 And proud thy rival element to tame Dldst swallow them in conscious depths alive7 Dr. shorn and powerless, hast thou bade them lie Aner stately ship carcase on the foam?

 Where still they watch the ocean and the skv. And iondy dream that they have yet home

 Doth hope still soo,he their souls or padness ,hr2 IS peace amid those wanderers of the foam? V, Say' IS the old affection yearnng still "lth all the blessed memories of home? ,,,, Or is it over? Life and breath, and thought The nVlng features and the breathing form? AS s me ne strong man become a thing of nought, And the rich blood of rank no longer warm ,,, Thou answerest not thou stern and naughty sea, There IS no sound in earth, or wave, or air,

 Roll on, ye tears! Oh what can comfort be 10 hearts that pant for hope, but breathe despair?

 Nay, mourner, there is sunlight on the deep, gentle rainbow on the darkling cloud; ,, A voice. more mighty than the floods, will sweep he shore ot tempests when the storm is loud! o What tho they woke the whirlwinds of the West, Or reused the tempest from his Eastern lair,

 Or cave the cloud with thunder in it's breast Lord of the awful waters thou vert there All-merciful! the fate-the day-were thine: Thou didst receive them from the seethne sea m Thy love too deep, Thy mercy too divine To quehch them in an hour unworthy Thee. If the storm were mighty, Thou vert in the gale If their feet fal'd them, in Thy paths they trod

 Men cannot urge the bark, or guide the sail, Or form the quiyering helm, away from God