Yonder in the distance we see gay, glittering crafts sailing about in a
state of unrest. Some are sailing out upon the sea of worldly pleasure
in search of happiness. See them rush wildly about. Yonder they seem to
see bright, golden waters and hope that true pleasures are to be found
there. But, alas! just beneath the surface all is dark and murky and
bitter. Some are sailing out upon the highways of worldly fame and
honor, others upon the wild stream of worldly riches, all searching for
rest and finding none. See the surging, tossing mass of human barks and
hear their wail of disappointment as the sweet, golden waters turn to
bitter wormwood and gall. The rainbow-colored bubbles, from their
hoped-for fountain of joy, burst upon the air, leaving them empty-handed
and restless-hearted. Above the wild din of their clamor speaks a soft,
tender voice, saying, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are
heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." But their ears are not turned to
catch sounds from above; they hear only the siren song of an enchanting
goddess--the world.
Down toward the setting sun we see many shattered vessels going down in
a wild vortex.
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