Futile and vain, alike each hope or fear
On, on, we glide, there is no resting here.
For far behind is left each joy and woe,
The mighty river ne'er will cease to flow!
And, rough and smooth, it hastens to its home,
Glides by each futile hope and pleasure gone.
Until within our ears the ocean roars,
And the bleak billows break upon the shores;
Beneath our keel the bounding waves arise,
And the land lessens from our aching eyes.
The floods of "Time's wide ocean" round us swell,
Earth take of us thy long and last farewell!
For witness of our _future voyage_ there's none
But _He_, the Infinite, Eternal One!

_Kirton Lindsey_. ANNIE R.

* * * * *


ON VEILS.

(_To the Editor of the Mirror_.)


In No. 385, of the MIRROR, one of your Correspondents gives an account
of the "_Origin_ of _wearing_ the veil," in which he attributes it to
Penelope, the beautiful wife of Ulysses. Now, for my own part, I feel
inclined to query this statement of C.K.W. first by his own account of
the origin, and second by Scripture.