Ah, life is only a link
In the endless chain of change.
Death giveth the dust to the dust
And the soul to the infinite soul:
For aye since the morning of man--
Since the human rose up from the brute--
Hath Hope, like a beacon of light,
Like a star in the rift of the storm,
Been writ by the finger of God
On the longing hearts of men.
O follow no goblin fear;
O cringe to no cruel creed;
Nor chase the shadow of doubt
Till the brain runs mad with despair.
Stretch forth thy hand, O man,
To the winds and the quaking earth--
To the heaving and falling sea--
To the ultimate stars and feel
The throb of the spirit of God--
The pulse of the Universe.
MAULEY
THE BRAVE FERRY-MAN
[NOTE.--The great Sioux massacre in Minnesota commenced at the Agency
village, on the Minnesota River, early in the morning of the 16th day of
August, 1862, precipitated, doubtless, by the murders at Acton on the
day previous. The massacre and the Indian war that followed developed
many brave men, but no truer hero than Mauley, an obscure Frenchman, the
ferry-man at the Agency. Continually under fire, he resolutely ran his
ferry-boat back and forth across the river, affording the
terror-stricken people the only chance for escape.
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