This world of wonders, where our lot is cast, <br />Hath far more ends than one. A man may stand <br />On the bluff rocks that stretch from Sennen Church, <br />And watch the rude Atlantic hurling in <br />The mighty billows:--thus his land may end. <br /> <br />Another lies with gasping breath, and sees <br />The mightier billows of eternity <br />Dashing upon the outmost rocks of life: <br />And his Land's End is near. And so, one day, <br />With the Lord's flock, close on Time's limit, stand <br />On the last headland of the travelled world, <br />And watch, like sun--streak on the ocean's waste, <br />His Advent drawing nigh. Thus shall the Church <br />Her Land's End reach: and then may you and we, <br />Dear Cornish friends, once more in company, <br />Look out upon the glorious realms of hope, <br />And find the last of earth,--the first of God.<br /><br />Henry Alford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-land-s-end/
