The youth whose bark is guided o'er
A summer stream by zephyr's breath,
With idle gaze delights to pore
On imaged skies that glow beneath.
But should a fleeting storm arise
To shade awhile the watery way,
Quick lifts to heaven his anxious eyes,
And speeds to reach some sheltering bay.
'Tis thus down time's eventful tide,
While prosperous breezes gently blow,
In life's frail bark we gaily glide
Our hopes, our thoughts all fixed below.
But let one cloud the prospect dim,
The wind its quiet stillness mar,
At once we raise our prayer to Him
Whose light is life's best guiding star.