Lucia (White) Jennison (“Owen Innsley”) (1850– )

WHAT lies beyond the far horizon’s rim?

Ah! could our ship but reach and anchor there,

What wondrous scenes, what visions bright and fair

Would meet the eyes that gazed across the brim!

But though we crowd the canvas on and trim

Our bark with skill, the proud waves seem to bear

No nearer to that goal, and everywhere

Stretches an endless circle wide and dim.

So do we dream, treading the narrow path

Of life, between the bounds of day and night,

To-morrow turns this page so often conned:

But when to-morrow cometh, lo! it hath

The limits of to-day, and in its light

Still lies far off the unknown heaven beyond.