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+ "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/loose.dtd">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1">
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gleams of Sunshine, by Joseph Horatio Chant</title>
+<style type="text/css">
+
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+ margin-right: 12%;}
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+<body>
+<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Gleams of Sunshine, by Joseph Horatio Chant</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Gleams of Sunshine</p>
+<p> Optimistic Poems</p>
+<p>Author: Joseph Horatio Chant</p>
+<p>Release Date: February 13, 2008 [eBook #24605]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLEAMS OF SUNSHINE***</p>
+<br><br><center><h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Charles Bidwell, Beth Trapaga,<br>
+ and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br>
+ (http://www.pgdpcanada.net)</h3></center><br><br>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Front cover" width="334" height="500">
+</div>
+<br>
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="Rev. J. H. Chant" width="500" height="532">
+<br>
+<span class="caption">
+Rev. J. H. Chant</span>
+</div>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h1>
+Gleams of Sunshine
+</h1>
+<h2>
+OPTIMISTIC POEMS
+</h2>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3>
+By
+</h3>
+<h2>
+Joseph Horatio Chant
+</h2>
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/deco.jpg" alt="Decoration" width="81" height="99">
+</div>
+<br>
+<h4>
+Printed for the Author by
+<br>
+WILLIAM BRIGGS
+<br>
+TORONTO
+<br>
+1915
+</h4>
+<h4>
+Copyright, Canada, 1915
+<br>
+by J. H. CHANT.
+</h4>
+<hr class="short">
+<br>
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/dedication.jpg" alt="TO The memory of my beloved wife, MARY MATILDA MCKIM Who, by her
+gentle disposition, cheerful spirit, sound judgment, and earnest
+Christian life, not only proved herself my true helpmate for over 46
+years, but, also, made our home a place of constant peac" width="299" height="323">
+</div>
+<hr class="short">
+<p class="header">
+CONTENTS
+</p>
+<table summary="Contents" width="70%" cellpadding="1">
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&nbsp;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<small>
+PAGE</small>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+INVOCATION
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#7">
+7</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+FATHER OF UNIVERSAL MAN
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#9">
+9</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+GOD'S PLAN IS BEST
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#12">
+12</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+CANADA
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#14">
+14</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+LATE AUTUMN
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#18">
+18</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+FRIENDSHIP
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#19">
+19</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+LIFE
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#22">
+22</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+TO MR. RUDYARD KIPLING
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#23">
+23</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MEN BELOW DECK
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#26">
+26</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;OTHERS SAVE WITH FEAR&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#28">
+28</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+TREAD SOFTLY
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#31">
+31</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;IT WAS MY FAULT&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#34">
+34</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+KEPT THE FLAG FLOATING
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#35">
+35</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MARY
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#37">
+37</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+A WORLD REDEEMED
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#38">
+38</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+ALASKAN BOUNDARY SETTLEMENT
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#40">
+40</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MY PRIMROSE
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#42">
+42</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+NIAGARA'S RAINBOW
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#44">
+44</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MY SISTER NELL AND I
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#46">
+46</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+GATHER THE WAYSIDE FLOWERS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#48">
+48</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+HIDE THEIR SCARS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#50">
+50</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;ASHAMED BUT NOT AFRAID&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#52">
+52</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+DUNBAR
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#54">
+54</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MARSTON MOOR
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#59">
+59</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+OIL THE CRICKET
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#62">
+62</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE REAL
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#63">
+63</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+VICTORY GAINED AND LIFE LOST
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#65">
+65</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE BAPTISM OF CLOVIS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#66">
+66</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE WATER LILY
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#70">
+70</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;HE SHALL WIPE AWAY EVERY TEAR&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#72">
+72</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE TAJ OF AGRA
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#73">
+73</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+ENGLAND'S BRAVE SONS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#78">
+78</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+QUEEN VICTORIA
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#80">
+80</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+SILVER TONES
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#83">
+83</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+GOD'S ORDER
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#86">
+86</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+INFLUENCE
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#88">
+88</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+UNDECAYING FRUIT
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#90">
+90</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE HEROES OF OUR DAY
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#92">
+92</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE BIG BEAR CREEK
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#94">
+94</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE FROST ON THE WINDOW
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#96">
+96</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;WILT THOU HARASS A DRIVEN LEAF?&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#98">
+98</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+A GEM
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#100">
+100</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE CLOUDS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#101">
+101</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE MOSSES
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#103">
+103</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE GRANDEST THEME
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#105">
+105</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+SEPTEMBER
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#107">
+107</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE FLOWERS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#111">
+111</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE BUD
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#113">
+113</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+BEAUTIFUL SKY
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#115">
+115</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#116">
+116</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE MOSS ROSE
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#118">
+118</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+GOD'S CARE
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#120">
+120</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MY LOT
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#121">
+121</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+GOD'S FOOT ON THE CRADLE
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#122">
+122</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+GOD'S GIFTS TO BE ENJOYED
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#124">
+124</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE HIGHEST GOAL
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#126">
+126</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+JOY IN THE MORNING
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#128">
+128</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;HE SHALL DWELL ON HIGH&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#129">
+129</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+BAG YOUR GAME
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#132">
+132</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+OTHERS' BURDENS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#135">
+135</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MEMORY
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#136">
+136</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE ROYAL WAY
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#138">
+138</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+'STABLISHED
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#140">
+140</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+A MEROGNOSTIC
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#141">
+141</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;SALUT AUX BLESSIS&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#144">
+144</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+SONNET
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#146">
+146</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+BROTHERHOOD
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#147">
+147</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+SHE DEARLY LOVED THE FLOWERS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#149">
+149</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MY PANSY PETS
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#151">
+151</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+LOVE BETTER THAN KNOWLEDGE
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#153">
+153</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+A SUFFERING GOD
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#155">
+155</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE COPY
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#157">
+157</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+PERFECT WORK
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#159">
+159</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE JOHNSTOWN DISASTER
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#160">
+160</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+EYE HATH NOT SEEN
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#169">
+169</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+WHAT LASTS?
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#171">
+171</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+IS THERE A BRIGHTER WORLD?
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#173">
+173</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#176">
+176</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+THE END WE SOUGHT
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#178">
+178</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+ASPIRATION
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#179">
+179</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MY REST
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#180">
+180</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;PAINT ME AS I AM, WARTS AND ALL&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#182">
+182</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+&#34;I WAS THERE&#34;
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#183">
+183</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+TRUE LOVE
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#185">
+185</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+A TRUE MAN
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#186">
+186</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">
+MY OLD SWEETHEART
+</td>
+<td class="pg">
+<a href="#187">
+187</a>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class="med">
+<br>
+<h2>
+Gleams of Sunshine
+</h2>
+<br>
+<a name="7">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+INVOCATION
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+<i>
+O Thou, who art the source of joy and light,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+The great Revealer of the will Divine;</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Thyself Divine, all nature owns Thy might,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+And bows in homage at a beck of Thine,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Afford me light to guide my unskilled hand,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+And by Thy Spirit all my thoughts command.</i>
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+<i>
+To Thy great name I dedicate my powers,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+Yielding to Thee what Thou with blood hast bought,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Resolved that Thou shalt have my days and hours,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+And for Thy sake shall every work be wrought;</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+O deign to use me, if it be Thy will,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+And my poor heart with love and gladness fill.</i>
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+<i>
+If this strange impulse which I feel within</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+To write this book proceeds, O Lord, from Thee,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Let it not die, nor be defiled by sin,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+But let the work from self and sin be free,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+And prove a guide to home and bliss above,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+And help to fill this warring world with love.</i>
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+<i>
+The Master's touch I know it sadly lacks,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+And may not please the nice artistic taste</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Of some fine mind that naught but gold attracts;</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+Some may not count these iron-filings waste;</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Like magnets, to which gold will not adhere,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+May they find ore in this to bless and cheer.</i>
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+<i>
+In this plain pitcher, Lord, Thy blessing pour,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+That from it men their raging thirst may slake,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+And when exhausted is the scanty store,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+Then let the earthen vessel quickly break;</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Its end is gained if Thou art glorified,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+And men have learned to love the Christ who died.</i>
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+<i>
+As flowers drink in the solar rays and dew,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+And in return give bloom and odors sweet,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+So would I to Thy Spirit's touch prove true,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+And render that return which seemeth meet;</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Come, dews of grace! Great Sun, illume my heart!</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+That I to some sad soul may joy impart.</i>
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="9">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+FATHER OF UNIVERSAL MAN
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Father of Universal Man,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Where'er in this wide world he roam,
+</p>
+<p>
+Not known to thee by kith or clan,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor height, nor breadth of mental dome,
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor babbling tongue, nor sounding creed,
+</p>
+<p>
+But by his woe and common need.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The pushing Anglo-Saxon race,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The Celts with wealth of heart and mind,
+</p>
+<p>
+The Esquimaux of leaden face,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The Arabs whom no chain can bind,
+</p>
+<p>
+With hardy Boers and all the rest,
+</p>
+<p>
+Are with one common Father blest.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And all are brothers, though at times
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Our flashing swords obscure the sun.
+</p>
+<p>
+We ring aloud our Christmas chimes,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But louder sounds the booming gun,
+</p>
+<p>
+And brother is by brother slain,
+</p>
+<p>
+And kindred ties are rent in twain.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Yet Thou art true whate'er betide;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Thy heart o'er human woe doth melt;
+</p>
+<p>
+For men of every race Christ died,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And, as a zone, Thy love would belt
+</p>
+<p>
+All human kind from pole to pole
+</p>
+<p>
+Into one grand, harmonious whole.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Men war with men in every clime,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Commotions rock this earthly ball;
+</p>
+<p>
+Our souls are covered o'er with grime&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Sad fruits of our Adamic fall,
+</p>
+<p>
+But grace shall triumph in the end,
+</p>
+<p>
+And good the evil far transcend.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Thy throne remains forever firm,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And here, amidst the strife of men,
+</p>
+<p>
+We find with joy a heavenly germ
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which shall re-stock this world again
+</p>
+<p>
+With fruitful plants of righteousness,
+</p>
+<p>
+If Thou, O God, but deign to bless.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Help us that we may not deny
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Our brotherhood in hour of strife;
+</p>
+<p>
+When swords shall from their scabbards fly,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And great the sacrifice of life,
+</p>
+<p>
+May we in pity o'er them bend,
+</p>
+<p>
+And help to wounded foe extend.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+If we are working out Thy plan,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Give our brave soldiers arms of steel,
+</p>
+<p>
+And may each prove himself a man&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To God and to his nation leal,
+</p>
+<p>
+And never falter in the fight,
+</p>
+<p>
+But die, if need be, for the right.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+May right prevail in this dread war,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though we be humbled in the dust;
+</p>
+<p>
+To fail our end is better far
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Then gain it, if it be unjust,
+</p>
+<p>
+But if our aims with Thine agree&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+We trust&#8212;and leave results with Thee.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The world moves on; let none essay
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To block it in its onward course,
+</p>
+<p>
+Lest they like chaff be swept away
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As by a supernatural force;
+</p>
+<p>
+For laggards progress does not wait&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Keep pace with time or bide your fate.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+May our brave foes rise in defeat
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To higher form of liberty;
+</p>
+<p>
+And Freedom's flag, as seemeth meet,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Wave over all from sea to sea;
+</p>
+<p>
+Pushed on as by the hand of fate
+</p>
+<p>
+To nationhood, both firm and great.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="12">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+GOD'S PLAN IS BEST
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Thy plan is best, though it may not agree
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With my conceptions of my needs and rights,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And faith may fail to scale its azure heights;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet still I trust, and leave my cause with Thee.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+With single eye I sought to do Thy will.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I felt Thy smile and left results with Thee;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If they have failed, then that is naught to me&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+I did my part, and am Thy servant still.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The hearts of men are in Thy mighty hand;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Naught is concealed from Thy all-searching sight;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Canst Thou not turn them to the left or right?
+</p>
+<p>
+The raging ocean calms at Thy command.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The aching clay may circumscribe my sphere;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet in confinement I may labor still
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In work which harmonizes with Thy will,
+</p>
+<p>
+And e'er rejoice to have my Master near.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Thoughts of Thy love will yet remain with me,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And in my silent hours may shape assume,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And by their measures help to lift the gloom
+</p>
+<p>
+Of this dark world, and bring men nearer Thee.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Whate'er may come, I will not, Lord, complain;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+My plan is Thine, I have no other choice.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In work or rest 'tis meet I should rejoice;
+</p>
+<p>
+Contentment in my lot is blessed gain.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="14">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+CANADA
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Dear Canada, our native land,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Our love for thee grows day by day;
+</p>
+<p>
+Our fathers left the olden strand,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+O'er sea and rapids made their way,
+</p>
+<p>
+And by their energy and skill
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They laid thy firm foundation deep,
+</p>
+<p>
+And sowed the seed o'er vale and hill
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which we, their sons, are called to reap.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The wilderness blooms as the rose;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The old-time hardships are unknown;
+</p>
+<p>
+And wealth in streams of commerce flows
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From sea to sea&#8212;a nation grown&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Still youthful, but with thews of steel
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To throttle foes that may arise;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet loving touch sore hearts to heal,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And lift us nearer to the skies.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We cannot boast as blue a sky
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As smiles o'er many an Alpine plain,
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor are our mountain peaks as high
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As theirs, yet we have other gain;
+</p>
+<p>
+Our hills are rich in yellow gold,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Our plains are broad and fertile too;
+</p>
+<p>
+Our lakes and streams hold wealth untold,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And grander forests never grew.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our sky is bright to healthy eyes;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Pure ozone lades the air we breathe;
+</p>
+<p>
+Our climate we have learned to prize;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor do we o'er our winters grieve;
+</p>
+<p>
+For nature throws her ermine robe
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+O'er purple hills and vales as well;
+</p>
+<p>
+No portion of this earthly globe
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As gay as this, with sleigh and bell.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But soon the winter wears away,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And plants long sheltered now are seen,
+</p>
+<p>
+And April showers and smiling May
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Soon clothe the earth in living green.
+</p>
+<p>
+Monotony is thus unknown&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Each season is a glad surprise,
+</p>
+<p>
+In which God's truth and love are shown,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And hope within us never dies.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our sons, inured to noble toil,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Grow strong in arm and broad in mind;
+</p>
+<p>
+Some stay at home to till the soil,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Others in various callings find
+</p>
+<p>
+Their missions&#8212;but where'er their place
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In the great drama of our day,
+</p>
+<p>
+They, as a class, win in the race,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And the behests of Heaven obey.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The gold of monarchy have we,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Without the useless silt and dross;
+</p>
+<p>
+And like our cousins, all are free,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet we have no election boss.
+</p>
+<p>
+No union here of Church and State,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet Church and State full well agree
+</p>
+<p>
+That nations never can be great
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If they refuse to bow the knee.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We make the nation's weal or woe,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As one may shape his future life.
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;God's mill,&#34; 'tis said, &#34;grinds fine, tho' slow,&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A fact lost sight of in the strife
+</p>
+<p>
+For place and power in Church and State,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And think God cares not what we do;
+</p>
+<p>
+But to our doubt he whispers &#34;wait,&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And time proves Him both just and true.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+From England and from sunny France
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Our fathers came, long years ago;
+</p>
+<p>
+On Abraham's plain with sword and lance
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They fought as foes&#8212;gave blow for blow.
+</p>
+<p>
+The victors and the conquered now
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Recall that day with mutual pride;
+</p>
+<p>
+To their grand destiny all bow,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And as true peers, stand side by side.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+So give me Canada before
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The fairest land beneath the sky.
+</p>
+<p>
+We stretch our arms from shore to shore
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And all are free, both low and high;
+</p>
+<p>
+An infant nation yet, 'tis true,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But strong in muscle and in nerve,
+</p>
+<p>
+We hold our own, give all their due,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And God's great purpose humbly serve.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="18">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+LATE AUTUMN
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The fields lie bare before me now,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The fruit is gathered in,
+</p>
+<p>
+Not even seen a grazing cow,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor heard the blackbird's din.
+</p>
+<p>
+The heath is brown, and ivy pale,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The woodbine berries red,
+</p>
+<p>
+And withered leaves borne on the gale
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Sink down on peaty bed.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+At morn the fence was covered o'er
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With a pale sheet of rime;
+</p>
+<p>
+The earth was like a marble floor,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But now is turned to grime.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Autumn rains are falling fast,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And swells the running brook;
+</p>
+<p>
+The Indian Summer, too, is past;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For snowfall soon we look.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="19">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+FRIENDSHIP
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+When presses hard my load of care,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And other friends from me depart,
+</p>
+<p>
+I want a friend my grief to share,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With faithful speech and loving heart.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I want a friend of noble mind,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Who loves me more than praise or pelf,
+</p>
+<p>
+Reproves my faults with spirit kind,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And thinks of me as well as self&#8212;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A friend whose ear is ever closed
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Against traducers' poison breath;
+</p>
+<p>
+And, though in me be not disclosed
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+An equal love, yet loves till death&#8212;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A friend who knows my weakness well,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And ever seeks to calm my fears;
+</p>
+<p>
+If words should fail the storm to quell,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Will soothe my fevered heart with tears&#8212;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A friend not moved by jealousy
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Should I outrun him in life's race;
+</p>
+<p>
+And though I doubt, still trusts in me
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With loyal heart and cloudless face.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+True friendship knows both joy and grief,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The sweetest pleasure, keenest pain;
+</p>
+<p>
+Its sharpest pangs are ever brief,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Mere flitting clouds before the rain.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But soon the joy returns again
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With bluer sky and brighter light;
+</p>
+<p>
+The grief proves but a narrow glen
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+All full of flowers, though hid from sight.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And e'en in darkness we inhale
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The fragrant odors love emits;
+</p>
+<p>
+Friendship like this can never fail&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+On love's strong throne its monarch sits.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+True friendship is of greater worth
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Than words, though they were solid gold.
+</p>
+<p>
+To all the glittering gems of earth
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I it prefer, a thousandfold.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+One Friend I have who knows my heart,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And loves me with a changeless love;
+</p>
+<p>
+I love Him, too&#8212;nor death can part
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Us two, for we will love above.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A woman's love to His is faint;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+No brother cleaves as close as He;
+</p>
+<p>
+No seraph words could ever paint
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The love this Friend now bears to me.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="22">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+LIFE
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our lives seem filled with things of little worth;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A thousand petty cares arise each day
+</p>
+<p>
+Which bring our soaring thoughts from heaven to earth,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Reminding us that we have feet of clay;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet we will not from path of duty stray
+</p>
+<p>
+If we amidst them all cleave to the right;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor great nor small are actions in His sight;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Through lowly vale He shows our feet the way.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our early dreams may not be realized;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The roseate sky now proves quite commonplace;
+</p>
+<p>
+The constellations we so highly prized
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Have vanished all&#8212;nor left the slightest trace
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of former glory in its azure face,
+</p>
+<p>
+But high o'er all beams out the polar star
+</p>
+<p>
+To guide us safe through rock and sandy bar;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Life is complete and its cap-stone is grace.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="23">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+TO MR. RUDYARD KIPLING<a href="#note1" name="noteref1"><sup>1
+</sup>
+</a>
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+True laureate of the Anglo-Saxon race,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Whose words have won the hearts of young and old;
+</p>
+<p>
+So free from cant, and yet replete with grace,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or prose or verse it glows like burnished gold;
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy muse is ever loyal to the truth,
+</p>
+<p>
+And those who know thee best forget thy youth.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Unbend thy bow and rest with us awhile;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Thy active mind requires a healthy brain;
+</p>
+<p>
+Death's shadow has gone back upon the dial,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And thou art left a higher goal to gain;
+</p>
+<p>
+The future will eclipse the brilliant past;
+</p>
+<p>
+Fear not; thy ideal will be reached at last.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+To do the grandest work one must needs be
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Endowed by Nature for the master task;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yea more, he must possess the light to see
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Those mysteries which nature seems to mask,
+</p>
+<p>
+And this can gain but in the royal way&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+'Tis dread experience leads from gloom to-day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The Master saw a struggling youth, and smiled,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Pleased with his work in main; but, knowing too
+</p>
+<p>
+His latent power, if it could be beguiled
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From hiding-place, much greater work would do,
+</p>
+<p>
+He took His servant's hand and led the way
+</p>
+<p>
+Through vale of sorrow up to brighter day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+By other path this height is ne'er attained,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor books nor schools its hidden wealth unveil.
+</p>
+<p>
+Philosophy and art have treasures gained,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But in this quest they must forever fail&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Experience only can the gift impart,
+</p>
+<p>
+Bring needed light and regulate the heart.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+To solace those who grieve one must have felt
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In his own heart the rending pangs of pain;
+</p>
+<p>
+The heart that suffers not will never melt
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+At others' woes, though free from selfish stain;
+</p>
+<p>
+What we have felt and seen we truly know,
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus endowed, our tears for others flow.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+So leave thy much-loved lyre awhile unstrung
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Till health again invigorate thy frame;
+</p>
+<p>
+With brain renewed, with vigorous heart and lung
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Take up thy work once more, and greater fame&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+A richer man by far than e'er before,
+</p>
+<p>
+For thou hast treasure on the other shore.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="note1">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="foot">
+<sup>
+1
+</sup>
+These lines were written directly after Mr. Kipling's recovery from severe illness.
+</p>
+<a name="26">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MEN BELOW DECK
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The battleship its anchor weighs,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And belches forth its thunder;
+</p>
+<p>
+Its commodore all classes praise,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And at his victories wonder;
+</p>
+<p>
+And well they may&#8212;for braver man
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Ne'er wielded sword or sabre;
+</p>
+<p>
+But tell me, brother, if you can,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Who did the lowly labor.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Below the deck in engine-room,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As oilers and coal-heavers?
+</p>
+<p>
+Amidst the smut and ghastly gloom,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Who worked the iron levers?
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus it is in other lines;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Brave men are often hidden
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;Below the deck,&#34; in shops and mines,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To higher plane unbidden.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The men on deck the praise receive,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But meagre thanks the others;
+</p>
+<p>
+As honest men they seldom grieve,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And envy not their brothers;
+</p>
+<p>
+A common cause they gladly serve,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though in a lowly station,
+</p>
+<p>
+From path of duty never swerve&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Loyal to God and nation.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+For when the smoke has cleared away,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And din of battle ended,
+</p>
+<p>
+On upper deck, in bright array,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+By angel bands attended,
+</p>
+<p>
+The whole ship's crew will then appear,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From high and lowly station,
+</p>
+<p>
+And each the words &#34;well done&#34; shall hear,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Midst shouts of acclamation.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="28">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;OTHERS SAVE WITH FEAR&#34;
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Some men there are who stand so straight,
+</p>
+<p>
+So equipoised, that others' fate
+</p>
+<p>
+Seems to depend on their behest;
+</p>
+<p>
+And useless all our every quest
+</p>
+<p>
+To gain perfection or renown,
+</p>
+<p>
+Unless we touch the flowing gown
+</p>
+<p>
+Of these high-priests, whose shadows fall
+</p>
+<p>
+Within themselves, if fall at all.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Others are not as straight as these,
+</p>
+<p>
+But more like rough and gnarled trees;
+</p>
+<p>
+But little beauty they display;
+</p>
+<p>
+Shadows they cast across the way;
+</p>
+<p>
+And from them men with scorning turn,
+</p>
+<p>
+Or, if they speak, their accents burn
+</p>
+<p>
+Like capsicum on chafed skin,
+</p>
+<p>
+And leave a smarting wound within.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Once noble men, when turned aside
+</p>
+<p>
+By fleshly lust or sinful pride,
+</p>
+<p>
+Each one becomes a broken bell
+</p>
+<p>
+On which the angry fiends of hell
+</p>
+<p>
+Ring out their discord, harsh and loud,
+</p>
+<p>
+As if with demon powers endowed.
+</p>
+<p>
+Colossal once through grace they were;
+</p>
+<p>
+Colossal still, though cleft and bare.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+On northern rocks is often seen
+</p>
+<p>
+The impress of some southern sheen,
+</p>
+<p>
+The brightness of a warmer bloom,
+</p>
+<p>
+Unknown to winter's frost and gloom.
+</p>
+<p>
+The fossil flower of epoch fair
+</p>
+<p>
+Has left its lasting impress there.
+</p>
+<p>
+So in some men whose hearts are cold
+</p>
+<p>
+You find a trace of days of old.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+While we deplore the Arctic chill,
+</p>
+<p>
+The frigid heart, the ice-bound will,
+</p>
+<p>
+We must admire the fossil trace,
+</p>
+<p>
+Still seen, of early days of grace.
+</p>
+<p>
+Hiding from sight as best we can
+</p>
+<p>
+The traces of the fallen man,
+</p>
+<p>
+We feast our eyes upon the fair,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though fossil, lines that linger there.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+How to restore is our concern,
+</p>
+<p>
+As we o'er their declensions mourn.
+</p>
+<p>
+Can such dire ruin be repaired?
+</p>
+<p>
+Only if God's strong arm be bared.
+</p>
+<p>
+But we must do a brother's part,
+</p>
+<p>
+And try to thaw the frozen heart;
+</p>
+<p>
+Not by the fire of wrath above,
+</p>
+<p>
+But by the melting coals of love.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As bullets smooth are farther shot,
+</p>
+<p>
+Because rough angles they have not,
+</p>
+<p>
+So gentle ways and loving speech
+</p>
+<p>
+Are sure the erring heart to reach,
+</p>
+<p>
+While jagged deeds and words unkind,
+</p>
+<p>
+Like pebbles rough, much friction find;
+</p>
+<p>
+They fall before they reach the goal,
+</p>
+<p>
+And seldom help the needy soul.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+To truth be loyal, but take a care
+</p>
+<p>
+That with true zeal
+<i>
+tact
+</i>
+have a share.
+</p>
+<p>
+The lightning when it strikes the tree
+</p>
+<p>
+Runs with the grain, as oft you see;
+</p>
+<p>
+Those who at angling are adepts,
+</p>
+<p>
+Choose well their bait and guard their steps;
+</p>
+<p>
+So if you would the sinner gain,
+</p>
+<p>
+Bait well your hook, or mark the grain.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="31">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+TREAD SOFTLY
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In the courts of truth tread softly,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though your tread be firm and bold;
+</p>
+<p>
+Your steps may awaken echoes,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Resounding through years untold.
+</p>
+<p>
+The trend of the age is onward,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And you should not lag behind;
+</p>
+<p>
+If men's minds are bound with fetters,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Perchance you may some unbind.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our creed, say you, needs revising,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In line with the growth of light;
+</p>
+<p>
+Be sure you have made real progress
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Before you assume the right,
+</p>
+<p>
+By stroke of pen, to unsettle
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The faith of the long ago;
+</p>
+<p>
+For many who err in judgment
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Stand fast to the truth they know.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+You bring from the mine rare jewels,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That you think the world should see;
+</p>
+<p>
+But, perhaps, their estimation
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With your own may not agree;
+</p>
+<p>
+They may lack discrimination,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And their worth may not discern;
+</p>
+<p>
+So polish them at your leisure,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And give the world time to learn.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Before you dig up the old tree
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That sheltered in ages past
+</p>
+<p>
+The earth's noblest men and women
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From the fury of the blast,
+</p>
+<p>
+See that your sapling is rooted,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And no borer at its base,
+</p>
+<p>
+And its boughs both strong and spreading,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To cover an erring race.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Bear down on the lever gently,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or the rock may be o'erturned!
+</p>
+<p>
+Or, perchance, your lever shattered,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And little experience learned!
+</p>
+<p>
+Take time to adjust your fulcrum,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Then thrust home your iron bar;
+</p>
+<p>
+Bear down and the rock is lifted,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Is lifted without a jar.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Your views are, perhaps, exotic&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Young shoots from a tropic brain,
+</p>
+<p>
+They need to be better rooted
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To endure the wind and rain;
+</p>
+<p>
+You may well admire the markings
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+On each graceful stem and leaf,
+</p>
+<p>
+But if taken from the hot-house,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They will surely come to grief.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Before they have wholly perished
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They may please admiring eyes,
+</p>
+<p>
+The old be thrown on the dunghill,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To receive your floral prize;
+</p>
+<p>
+They adorn the porch and window,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And brighten the wayside bed,
+</p>
+<p>
+But we waken some summer morning
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To find our new treasures dead.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+'Tis better to make haste slowly,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Than to antedate your day;
+</p>
+<p>
+The farmer waits for the sunshine,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To transmute the grass to hay.
+</p>
+<p>
+When the fields are ripe for harvest
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Fear neither the heat or rain,
+</p>
+<p>
+But thrust in your sharpened sickle,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And gather the golden grain.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="34">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;IT WAS MY FAULT&#34;<a href="#note2" name="noteref2"><sup>2
+</sup>
+</a>
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Those men are deemed heroes who rush on the foe
+</p>
+<p>
+Regardless of danger, and seek not to know
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+What others may do;
+</p>
+<p>
+Stern duty demands it&#8212;why should they falter
+</p>
+<p>
+If all they hold dear is laid on the altar,
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+And conscience be true?
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The greatest of all is the man who can say
+</p>
+<p>
+When battle is over and foe gained the day,
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+&#34;The fault was in me:
+</p>
+<p>
+My plan miscarried through miscalculation;
+</p>
+<p>
+On me rests the blame, and not on the nation:
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+My soldiers are free.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In George Stewart White, and men of like mind,
+</p>
+<p>
+Our nation can rest, for in them you will find
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+A true manliness;
+</p>
+<p>
+Their failures acknowledged are failures no more;
+</p>
+<p>
+Defeat to such men only opens the door
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+To future success.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="note2">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="foot">
+<sup>
+2
+</sup>
+General White's words.
+</p>
+<a name="35">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+KEPT THE FLAG FLOATING
+</p>
+<p class="subtitle">
+&#34;Thank God, we have kept the flag floating.&#34;&#8212;<i>General White.
+</i>
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Some men, like French, display much dash;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They boldly rush upon the foe,
+</p>
+<p>
+Their sword-blades like the lightning flash,
+</p>
+<p>
+As they on helm or hauberk clash;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor fear the foeman's blow.
+</p>
+<p>
+We praise them for their gallant deeds;
+</p>
+<p>
+They are the men the Empire needs.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But true as they are those who stand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Within the fort beleaguered round;
+</p>
+<p>
+Resources few at their command,
+</p>
+<p>
+Their army but a feeble band,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet bravely hold their ground;
+</p>
+<p>
+And o'er their blood-bespattered coats
+</p>
+<p>
+The Union Jack in triumph floats.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Reduced their strength through lack of food,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And fever germs on vitals preyed;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet they o'er trouble did not brood,
+</p>
+<p>
+By night or day of cheerful mood;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+This burden on them weighed&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+To keep the flag afloat&#8212;in brief,
+</p>
+<p>
+Till Buller came to their relief.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Brave White, accept our meed of praise!
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+We crown thee equal to the best
+</p>
+<p>
+Of heroes of the olden days,
+</p>
+<p>
+Whose deeds inspired the poets' lays!
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+We need no further quest;
+</p>
+<p>
+But this with gratitude we note,
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy valour kept the flag afloat!
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Valor like thine does not surprise
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+When we review thy noble past;
+</p>
+<p>
+A hero is the one who tries,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though he may not to ideal rise&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+His plan may fail at last&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet is too brave to lay the blame
+</p>
+<p>
+On others, but takes all the shame.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;The fault was mine,&#34; thy language then,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Revealing the divinest grace
+</p>
+<p>
+Possessed by truly noble men,
+</p>
+<p>
+And, prophecy of triumph, when
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With foe brought face to face,
+</p>
+<p>
+The choice remains, defeat or death,
+</p>
+<p>
+The flag will float till latest breath.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="37">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MARY
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+She brought her alabaster flask
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Well-filled with precious nard;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor did she deem the act a task,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor look for great reward;
+</p>
+<p>
+She only thought of His great love,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And felt her gift was small
+</p>
+<p>
+For Him who left His home above
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To suffer death for all.
+</p>
+<p>
+But her blest Lord more highly prized
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The loving heart that gave;
+</p>
+<p>
+For loveless gifts are e'er despised,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet men oft seek to pave
+</p>
+<p>
+The way that leads to glory land
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With deeds devoid of grace;
+</p>
+<p>
+But only those who love can stand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Approved before His face.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="38">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+A WORLD REDEEMED
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+This world is but the shadow
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of the world that is to be,
+</p>
+<p>
+A ripple on the surface
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of a deep, unfathomed sea.
+</p>
+<p>
+God's plans are always perfect,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But long ages intervene
+</p>
+<p>
+From the planning of the temple
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To the glow upon its sheen;
+</p>
+<p>
+But we can be co-workers
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In accomplishing his plan;
+</p>
+<p>
+For in God's purpose is a place
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For every son of man.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The germ may be developed
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In a more salubrious clime,
+</p>
+<p>
+All obstacles surmounted
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In the onward march of time,
+</p>
+<p>
+And nature's forces harnessed
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Will their destiny fulfil,
+</p>
+<p>
+And things now deemed supernal
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Respond to human will;
+</p>
+<p>
+For God has so adjusted
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The laws of this earthly sphere,
+</p>
+<p>
+That by man's help his plans unfold,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And order doth appear.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The words of God's own prophets
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Concerning these latter days
+</p>
+<p>
+Of mighty transformations,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To our great Redeemer's praise;
+</p>
+<p>
+When wastes shall glow in beauty,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And the savage beast be kind,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though they have prior fulfilment
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In the realm of soul and mind;
+</p>
+<p>
+Will then be more than figure,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though that we all count sublime;
+</p>
+<p>
+The earth will wear its regal robes
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In every land and clime.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+This life is but a sample
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of the life that is to be;
+</p>
+<p>
+There we know the perfect lesson,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Here we learn the a&#8212;b&#8212;c;
+</p>
+<p>
+And the life beyond is fashioned
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+By the thoughts and deeds of this;
+</p>
+<p>
+Fitting it for realms of darkness,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or for never-ending bliss;
+</p>
+<p>
+For those alone will sorrow
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Who receive His grace in vain,
+</p>
+<p>
+But those who wrought with God will prove
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That godliness is gain.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="40">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+ALASKAN BOUNDARY SETTLEMENT
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My neighbor's farm and mine lie side by side,
+</p>
+<p>
+And nothing should our mutual trust divide;
+</p>
+<p>
+But they who made th' original survey
+</p>
+<p>
+Were guided by the stars, the records say,
+</p>
+<p>
+So that the line that marks out our domain
+</p>
+<p>
+Is indistinct, and puzzling doubts remain.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our farms are large, and portions near the line
+</p>
+<p>
+With rocky soil and stunted spruce and pine,
+</p>
+<p>
+With scarce a wigwam or a ranger's hearth,
+</p>
+<p>
+We left untilled, and deemed of little worth;
+</p>
+<p>
+The petals of this desert rose unfold,
+</p>
+<p>
+When man discovers mines of yellow gold.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;Where is the boundary line?&#34; is now the cry.
+</p>
+<p>
+Each stakes his claim and gives his reason why;
+</p>
+<p>
+One sought an exit to the main highway,
+</p>
+<p>
+The other closed the gates and gained the day
+</p>
+<p>
+In custom duties on the shining ore,
+</p>
+<p>
+And stores for man and beast that inland pour.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Each claimed his own, whatever that may be,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet, neighbors true, we feared to disagree.
+</p>
+<p>
+We studied maps and treaties old and new,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet each his own line-fence declared was true;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then, to avoid unseemly strife, we chose
+</p>
+<p>
+To settle our dispute as friends, not foes.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My neighbor chose three men in his employ,
+</p>
+<p>
+I three, at least, accepted them with joy;
+</p>
+<p>
+Not chosen these to arbitrate our case,
+</p>
+<p>
+But from material at command to trace,
+</p>
+<p>
+In harmony with law, the primal line
+</p>
+<p>
+For boundary fence, between his farm and mine.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I
+<i>
+lost my case</i>&#8212;all but one narrow lane!
+</p>
+<p>
+All other gates are closed, but why complain?
+</p>
+<p>
+Diminished somewhat is my large estate,
+</p>
+<p>
+But self-respect remains&#8212;nor place for hate;
+</p>
+<p>
+O'er our line-fence we grasp each other's hand,
+</p>
+<p>
+And for the right, united, ever stand.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="42">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MY PRIMROSE
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My sweet primrose with thy open face,
+</p>
+<p>
+And with fringe-like leaves, without a trace
+</p>
+<p>
+Of coarseness, either in flower or stem,
+</p>
+<p>
+Among all my plants thou art the gem.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My lovely lilies soon disappear;
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy bloom is constant through all the year;
+</p>
+<p>
+In summer's heat and winter's cold,
+</p>
+<p>
+Undimmed the light of thy floral gold.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Or if thy color be pink, or blue,
+</p>
+<p>
+Or white as snow, thou art ever true;
+</p>
+<p>
+My room is bright with thy smiling eyes,
+</p>
+<p>
+And thy fragrance rare I also prize.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Thou hast done thy part, my little pet&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Let me keep thy roots forever wet,
+</p>
+<p>
+But guard with care all thy tender leaves
+</p>
+<p>
+And growing crown, which the earth-crust heaves.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Thou dost heaven-ward tend, aspiring high,
+</p>
+<p>
+To kiss the stars in the vaulted sky,
+</p>
+<p>
+And they look down from the azure blue,
+</p>
+<p>
+My sweet primrose&#8212;they are smiling, too.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="44">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+NIAGARA'S RAINBOW
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Upon the &#34;table-rock&#34; I stand,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And gaze into the depths profound,
+</p>
+<p>
+In ecstacy at sights so grand,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And deafened by the sound
+</p>
+<p>
+Of rushing waters, as they leap
+</p>
+<p>
+Like maddened steeds, down hillside steep.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The falling spray my head bedews,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As gently as a vernal shower;
+</p>
+<p>
+Or, as the Holy Ghost imbues
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In consecrated hour,
+</p>
+<p>
+The soul that inly yearns for love,
+</p>
+<p>
+And seeks it from the throne above.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But I see more than chasm deep,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Than falling spray and rushing tide.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sublime, indeed, the awful leap;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The awe will long abide&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+God's
+<i>
+rainbow hangs in colors bright</i>,
+</p>
+<p>
+A thing of beauty in my sight.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our cousins on the other side
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And we too often disagree;
+</p>
+<p>
+Puffed up, I fear, at times, with pride,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Each strong, and brave, and free;
+</p>
+<p>
+But we forget the stormy past,
+</p>
+<p>
+Our lands and hearts are linked at last.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The &#34;Union-Jack&#34; hangs o'er my head,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The &#34;Stars and Stripes&#34; my cousin rears,
+</p>
+<p>
+But old-time grievances are dead
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For all the coming years;
+</p>
+<p>
+As separate flags they still may wave,
+</p>
+<p>
+But we are
+<i>
+one
+</i>
+the world to save.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="46">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MY SISTER NELL AND I
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We strolled down by the river side,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+My sister Nell and I,
+</p>
+<p>
+To watch the waters onward glide,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And vessels passing by.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+On Nature's floor of lovely green,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Bedecked with flowers of gold,
+</p>
+<p>
+The purple sassafras as sheen,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which trumpet vines enfold.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We played our youthful games for hours,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And told our childish tales;
+</p>
+<p>
+Adorned each brow with fragrant flowers,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And slept 'neath cooling gales.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+For I was then but nine years old,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And she was only seven;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet joys like ours can ne'er be told&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They savored much of heaven.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Close by the bank, in shady nooks,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The waxen lilies grew;
+</p>
+<p>
+We called them fish, and with our hooks
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To shore full many drew.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+With these I made a wreath for Nell.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+She was so good and pure,
+</p>
+<p>
+They seemed to suit her brow so well,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet could not long endure
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The heated brow and dewless air&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The river suits them best;
+</p>
+<p>
+But graced awhile her golden hair,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As dove would silken nest.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Frail like the lilies, too, was Nell.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The fever's scorching blast
+</p>
+<p>
+Swept by, and my fair flowerette fell,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And to the dust was cast.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But now she blooms in glory land,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Close by the tree of Life;
+</p>
+<p>
+Better to bloom at God's right hand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Than in this world of strife.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I hope some day to meet her there,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And as in days of yore
+</p>
+<p>
+We plucked the lilies, pure and fair,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Up there we'll gather more.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="48">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+GATHER THE WAYSIDE FLOWERS
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+'Tis well to have a goal in mind,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A life-aim, high and true;
+</p>
+<p>
+Clear as the day, and well defined,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And ever kept in view.
+</p>
+<p>
+But God has strewn along the way
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Bright flowers of every hue.
+</p>
+<p>
+Gather the brightest while you may,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For they were meant for you.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Heaven's joy transcends the joys of earth,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But if earth's joys be pure
+</p>
+<p>
+They must have had a heavenly birth,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And bless while they endure;
+</p>
+<p>
+So pluck the flower before it fades&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Drink from the purling stream;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor look for sorrow's darkening shades,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But for the morning gleam.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Life's burdens lose full half their weight
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If gay our spirits be;
+</p>
+<p>
+The rest beyond we antedate,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And serve, though ever free.
+</p>
+<p>
+Our lamentations all will end,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Exchanged for smile and song,
+</p>
+<p>
+And men will mark our upward trend
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+By joy-points all along.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The poet wrote, &#34;no room for mirth;&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Much less for sigh and frown.
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;A vale of tears&#34; may be this earth&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Tis so to every clown.
+</p>
+<p>
+The desert blossoms as the rose,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And joy flows everywhere;
+</p>
+<p>
+The star of hope in brightness glows,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+No room for dark despair.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Before we reach God's heaven above,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Enjoy His heaven below;
+</p>
+<p>
+And by the ministries of love
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A Christlike nature show;
+</p>
+<p>
+For he who lives a selfish life
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Must lose the joy of this;
+</p>
+<p>
+For highest good, vain is our strife,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If man share not our bliss.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="50">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+HIDE THEIR SCARS!
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A painter, high in worldy fame,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Was sought to reproduce by art
+</p>
+<p>
+A likeness of the man whose name
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Sent darts of anguish through the heart
+</p>
+<p>
+Of mighty monarchs in his day;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For he by arms subdued the world.
+</p>
+<p>
+Kingdoms and empires owned his sway
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And bowed beneath his flag unfurled.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But Alexander bore a scar,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Deep marked upon his royal brow;
+</p>
+<p>
+To paint him thus would greatly mar
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The monarch's beauty; as a slough
+</p>
+<p>
+Would mar the beauty of a lawn,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Where queenly feet are wont to tread;
+</p>
+<p>
+Or like the cloud at early dawn,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which hides some glory 'neath its spread.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+To leave it out would not be true,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For Alexander bore the scar;
+</p>
+<p>
+The painter this resolved to do,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which would be true, yet would not mar:
+</p>
+<p>
+To paint the monarch's head reclined,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With his fore-finger on his brow;
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus much grace with art combined,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Like ornament on vessel's prow.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The finger rested on the scar,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As if mere chance had placed it there;
+</p>
+<p>
+And hid from sight this fruit of war,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And left a likeness true and fair.
+</p>
+<p>
+So let us try, as best we can,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To cover o'er each ugly scar
+</p>
+<p>
+Upon the brow of mortal man,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+So none may see it, near nor far.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="52">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;ASHAMED, BUT NOT AFRAID&#34;
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+O God, I am ashamed to die,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But not the least afraid;
+</p>
+<p>
+Tho' death's dark shadow draweth nigh,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Atonement has been made
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+For every member of our race,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And I on it rely,
+</p>
+<p>
+And hope immortal blooms thro' grace;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I'm not afraid to die.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But Thou hast done great things for me,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And I have nothing done.
+</p>
+<p>
+To set my sin-bound spirit free,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Was sacrificed Thy Son;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And every day by Thy kind hand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Rich blessings are bestowed;
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, how can I before Thee stand,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or rest in Thine abode
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+With self-respect, or feel at home
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With no returns to show,
+</p>
+<p>
+My whole life like the worthless foam
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+On time's incessant flow.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Oh, that in life's great harvest field,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I may some reaping do;
+</p>
+<p>
+Early and late the sickle wield,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And prove a reaper true.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And when the summons comes from Thee,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+While I on Christ rely,
+</p>
+<p>
+Thou wilt not be ashamed of me,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor I ashamed to die.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="54">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+DUNBAR
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Up to Dunbar our Cromwell went,
+</p>
+<p>
+Not to invade was his intent;
+</p>
+<p>
+But they who first King Charles sold
+</p>
+<p>
+Now turn their backs on friends of old,
+</p>
+<p>
+And principles they then held dear
+</p>
+<p>
+Were sacrificed for self, I fear.
+</p>
+<p>
+Another Stuart they receive,
+</p>
+<p>
+Who knew too well how to deceive;
+</p>
+<p>
+The most perfidious of his race,
+</p>
+<p>
+Corrupt in life, and void of grace,
+</p>
+<p>
+The menial of the Papacy;
+</p>
+<p>
+And yet content by oath to free
+</p>
+<p>
+Himself from Holy See's control,
+</p>
+<p>
+And covenant to save his soul
+</p>
+<p>
+By the Scotch Presbyterian mode,
+</p>
+<p>
+As to the crown this paved the road.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Cromwell brooked not this control;
+</p>
+<p>
+He wished man free to save his soul
+</p>
+<p>
+As conscience may to him dictate,
+</p>
+<p>
+Without subservience to the State.
+</p>
+<p>
+He saw also thro' the disguise
+</p>
+<p>
+Of one well versed in fraud and lies,
+</p>
+<p>
+And saw how England's liberties
+</p>
+<p>
+Were threatened by this scheme of his.
+</p>
+<p>
+So up to Dunbar Cromwell went;
+</p>
+<p>
+To break this compact his intent,
+</p>
+<p>
+Conserve the rights of Britons true
+</p>
+<p>
+To worship God in desk and pew
+</p>
+<p>
+As conscience may to them dictate,
+</p>
+<p>
+Without control of king, or state,
+</p>
+<p>
+Or Papal &#34;bull,&#34; or legate's rod&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Only accountable to God.
+</p>
+<p>
+On Sunday night he reached Dunbar.
+</p>
+<p>
+From darkened sky gleamed not a star;
+</p>
+<p>
+The way he travelled o'er was drear,
+</p>
+<p>
+Made doubly so by Scotchmen's fear.
+</p>
+<p>
+At his approach like sheep they fled,
+</p>
+<p>
+Made frantic by an awful dread
+</p>
+<p>
+Of red-hot irons, spear, and sword,
+</p>
+<p>
+Of breasts thrust thro', and bodies gored,
+</p>
+<p>
+Which they were told would be their lot
+</p>
+<p>
+When Cromwell came. So from each cot
+</p>
+<p>
+They bore away what pleased them best,
+</p>
+<p>
+And to the flames consigned the rest.
+</p>
+<p>
+But now Dunbar is reached; yet he
+</p>
+<p>
+Finds himself in extremity;
+</p>
+<p>
+Midst swamps and bogs unfit to tent,
+</p>
+<p>
+By Lammermoor from hillside rent,
+</p>
+<p>
+Leslie in front defiant stands
+</p>
+<p>
+A noble army he commands
+</p>
+<p>
+Of thousands two score seven, or more,
+</p>
+<p>
+Ready on Cromwell shot to pour.
+</p>
+<p>
+Behind the sea cut off retreat;
+</p>
+<p>
+With such great odds can he compete?
+</p>
+<p>
+The mountain sheep may safely tread
+</p>
+<p>
+The Lammermoor, but men may dread
+</p>
+<p>
+To cross this heath at any time;
+</p>
+<p>
+Much more now, midst the rain and slime,
+</p>
+<p>
+Will Cromwell with the smaller score
+</p>
+<p>
+Dare to cross o'er to Dunbar shore?
+</p>
+<p>
+Tho' shipped were half his guns and men
+</p>
+<p>
+The foe falls ere he turn again.
+</p>
+<p>
+With foresight keen, like one inspired,
+</p>
+<p>
+He saw the end ere Leslie fired.
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<span class="sc">The Lord</span>,&#34; said he, as rapt he stands,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<span class="sc">Hath given them into our hands</span>!&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+'Tis the ninth month and second day,
+</p>
+<p>
+A wild, wet night, historians say.
+</p>
+<p>
+Quit you like men, and bravely stand;
+</p>
+<p>
+Death's wrestle now is close at hand;
+</p>
+<p>
+Heed not the hoarse sea's doleful moan,
+</p>
+<p>
+As on the cliffs its waves are thrown.
+</p>
+<p>
+Think not of life nor kindred dear&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Who goes to war should nothing fear
+</p>
+<p>
+But God, whose eye-lids never sleep&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+His Israel He will safely keep.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, pray! but keep your powder dry&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Your part do, then on God rely.
+</p>
+<p>
+Stand to your arms the whole night thro'
+</p>
+<p>
+Or lie awake with arms in view.
+</p>
+<p>
+And you, ye Scots, your lights blow out,
+</p>
+<p>
+But stay not in your strong redoubt.
+</p>
+<p>
+'Midst shocks of corn your shelter seek,
+</p>
+<p>
+And rest in sleep; your foe is weak,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet ere another night comes 'round
+</p>
+<p>
+In deeper slumber shall be found
+</p>
+<p>
+Full many of your stalwart host,
+</p>
+<p>
+And stilled for aye their every boast.
+</p>
+<p>
+In Cromwell's camp all night was heard
+</p>
+<p>
+The voice of prayer in tones which stirred
+</p>
+<p>
+The tender hearts of &#34;Ironside&#34; men,
+</p>
+<p>
+As never can be told by pen.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ere shone the first faint streak of morn,
+</p>
+<p>
+The Scots beneath the shocks of corn,
+</p>
+<p>
+Stretched out full length in quiet sleep,
+</p>
+<p>
+Hear a loud blast, and upward leap
+</p>
+<p>
+To seize their arms and face the foe.
+</p>
+<p>
+Too late the warning! or, too slow
+</p>
+<p>
+Their movements when the trump was heard,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet rang along the lines the word
+</p>
+<p>
+Of battle-cry by Leslie sent,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<i>The Covenant! The Covenant!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+While high and strong was Cromwell's boast,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<i>The Lord of Hosts! The Lord of Hosts!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+With master skill he struck the blow,
+</p>
+<p>
+And when shone out the crimson glow
+</p>
+<p>
+Of morning sun upon the sea,
+</p>
+<p>
+Brave Leslie's men began to flee.
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<i>They run! Oh, I protest they run!</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Let God arise! Let God arise!</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+And scattered be His enemies!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+Loud Cromwell cried.
+<i>
+The work was done.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+Then rose from England's host a cry
+</p>
+<p>
+Which rent the very heavens on high.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now halt they on the battle field
+</p>
+<p>
+And to the Lord their homage yield&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+And sing this song with hearts devout:
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<i>O praise the Lord, ye nations all!</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Laud Him all peoples on this ball!</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+His mercy toward us e'er is great;</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+His truth and grace for sinners wait,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+Let all the people shout!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="59">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MARSTON MOOR
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The armies met on Marston Moor,
+</p>
+<p>
+'Midst lightning's flash and thunder's roar;
+</p>
+<p>
+As murky clouds sweep o'er the sky,
+</p>
+<p>
+God's cannonade with man's will vie.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Royalists in phalanx strong,
+</p>
+<p>
+By fiery Rupert led along,
+</p>
+<p>
+From Bolton's cruel massacre
+</p>
+<p>
+Towards York, in hope to keep it free
+</p>
+<p>
+From the Roundheads at any cost.
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;If York be lost, my crown is lost&#34;&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Wrote Charles to this trusted chief,
+</p>
+<p>
+And he must bring it prompt relief.
+</p>
+<p>
+The foe's true strength he did not know,
+</p>
+<p>
+But dazzled much by victory's glow
+</p>
+<p>
+He hoped with ease to overthrow
+</p>
+<p class="i6">
+The untrained volunteers;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor did he for brave Cromwell care,
+</p>
+<p>
+Tho' he had asked &#34;is Cromwell there?&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i6">
+Would not his grenadiers
+</p>
+<p>
+Scatter those yeomen to their fields,
+</p>
+<p>
+To hold their ploughs instead of shields?
+</p>
+<p>
+Thus confident of great success
+</p>
+<p>
+He asked his chaplain now to bless
+</p>
+<p>
+From God's own word their going out,
+</p>
+<p>
+And seemed to hear the victor's shout,
+</p>
+<p>
+While from the ranks of Roundheads rose
+</p>
+<p>
+Triumphant hymns, ere came the blows.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now Rupert madly dashes out,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<i>God and the King!</i>&#34; his battle shout;
+</p>
+<p>
+Charges the parliamentary ranks
+</p>
+<p>
+In centre, heedless of the flanks,
+</p>
+<p>
+Defeats Lord Fairfax and Leven,
+</p>
+<p>
+Scatters like leaves their untrained men.
+</p>
+<p>
+Remorselessly he hewed them down,
+</p>
+<p>
+And chased their leaders far from town.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Cromwell kept his men restrained
+</p>
+<p>
+Till Rupert thought the victory gained.
+</p>
+<p>
+His eye was all ablaze with fire,
+</p>
+<p>
+And burned his soul with righteous ire;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then sharp and passionate came the cry,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<i>Charge, in the name of the Most High!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+His features now most clearly show
+</p>
+<p>
+A strange, enthusiastic glow.
+</p>
+<p>
+With zeal he wraps himself about,
+</p>
+<p>
+And fires men's hearts with glance and shout.
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;For God and king,&#34; is Rupert's cry.
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<i>For truth and peace we dare to die!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+Shouts Cromwell, all the lines along,
+</p>
+<p>
+Which holds as with a mighty thong
+</p>
+<p>
+Th' immortal hosts of Puritans,
+</p>
+<p>
+While on them fall the Royal bans.
+</p>
+<p>
+As Roundheads, Rupert them derides;
+</p>
+<p>
+Not Roundheads now, but
+<i>
+Ironsides</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+The heavens were black, the storm still raged,
+</p>
+<p>
+As tho' with earth a war it waged,
+</p>
+<p>
+But raged a fiercer war just then,
+</p>
+<p>
+Not forces blind, but men with men;
+</p>
+<p>
+For two score thousand men were there;
+</p>
+<p>
+And booming cannon rent the air.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i12">
+*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The Cavaliers were scattered wide,
+</p>
+<p>
+Brought to the dust their haughty pride;
+</p>
+<p>
+Across the beanfield Rupert fled,
+</p>
+<p>
+His standard gone, his garments red;
+</p>
+<p>
+His men by many hundreds turned
+</p>
+<p>
+To ask for mercy, nor were spurned;
+</p>
+<p>
+While he left all and to York sped,
+</p>
+<p>
+Heedless of stores, or Royal dead.
+</p>
+<p>
+To Cromwell's swords as stubble they,
+</p>
+<p>
+And
+<i>
+Truth and Peace
+</i>
+had gained the day.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="62">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+OIL THE CRICKET
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;Mamma, what noises do I hear?
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They keep me wide awake.&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;The chirping crickets, little dear;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+What funny noise they make!&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;Yes, ma, but touch their tongues with oil,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To take the squeak away;
+</p>
+<p>
+For soon it will their voices spoil,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To squeak thus night and day.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Well done, my little girl of three;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Twould tune our speaking gear
+</p>
+<p>
+To utter sweeter melody
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For your attentive ear,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+If it were oiled a little, too,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For harsh too oft its tones;
+</p>
+<p>
+Though formed to thrill with pleasure true,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+It gives forth shrieks and groans,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Which fall discordant on the ear,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And budding pleasures spoil,
+</p>
+<p>
+And speaking gear, likewise I fear;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+So bring along the oil.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="63">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE REAL
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The leaf is faded, and decayed the flower,
+</p>
+<p>
+The birds have ceased to sing in wayside bower,
+</p>
+<p>
+The babbling brook is silenced by the cold,
+</p>
+<p>
+And hill and vale the frost and snow enfold.
+</p>
+<p>
+The life we see seems hasting to the tomb
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor sun, nor star, relieves the dismal gloom;
+</p>
+<p>
+The good man suffers with the base and vile,
+</p>
+<p>
+And honesty and truth give place to guile.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i12">
+*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Things are not always as they seem to be;
+</p>
+<p>
+The outer surface only man may see.
+</p>
+<p>
+The summer sleeps beneath the quilt of snow,
+</p>
+<p>
+Behind the clouds is hid the solar glow,
+</p>
+<p>
+The babbling brook will burst its icy bands,
+</p>
+<p>
+And birds will sing, and trees will clap their hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+The fallen leaf has left a bud behind,
+</p>
+<p>
+And flowers will bloom of brightest hue and kind;
+</p>
+<p>
+For when we look beneath the outward crust
+</p>
+<p>
+With vision clear, and free from worldly lust,
+</p>
+<p>
+We will behold a brighter world than this,
+</p>
+<p>
+With less of curse and much of noble bliss;
+</p>
+<p>
+For God's kind hand in all our conflicts here
+</p>
+<p>
+Is clearly seen and doubts must disappear;
+</p>
+<p>
+The end He has in view is most benign;
+</p>
+<p>
+The fire will dross consume and gold refine.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="65">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+VICTORY GAINED AND LIFE LOST
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As fought the Paladins of old,
+</p>
+<p>
+With gleaming swords and spirit bold,
+</p>
+<p>
+To thwart the schemes of base Lothar,
+</p>
+<p>
+Give France to Karl in holy war,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+So would we battle for the right,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' we may perish in the fight.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our trusty blade, not made of steel,
+</p>
+<p>
+While wounding deep, doth also heal;
+</p>
+<p>
+With this, and clad in Christian mail,
+</p>
+<p>
+The hosts of sin we would assail,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To gain the world for Christ, tho' we
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Should fall while shouting victory!
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="66">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE BAPTISM OF CLOVIS
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Five hundred years have nearly passed away
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Since that glad morn, when o'er fair Bethl'hem's plain
+</p>
+<p>
+A light resplendent as the glow of day,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Shone down from heaven, and holy angels deign
+</p>
+<p>
+To sing the sweetest song e'er heard by mortal ear,
+</p>
+<p>
+Which fills sad hearts with joy and drives away their fear.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Clovis, of the brave Franks, the king, and sheen,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Heard from Aurelian of a maid to wed,
+</p>
+<p>
+Matchless in feature, and of graceful mein&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;Zenobia, of the Alps,&#34; Aurelian said,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;The daughter of Chilperic, the Burgundian king,
+</p>
+<p>
+Clotilda is her name; fair maids her praises sing.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;She dwells among the Alps, in forest glade,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And by the shore of its most famous lake;
+</p>
+<p>
+But fairer than that land is this fair maid;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And brighter than its peaks at morn's awake;
+</p>
+<p>
+A Christian girl is she, whose heart God has renewed,
+</p>
+<p>
+And her fine, comely mind with grace and truth embued.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Then Clovis, by Aurelian, sent a ring
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To this fair damsel, whom he hoped to wed;
+</p>
+<p>
+She took the ring; and soon fair songsters sing
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The marriage hymn, as he to altar led
+</p>
+<p>
+This lovely Christian maid. They plight their nuptial vows;
+</p>
+<p>
+And the old priest invoked a blessing on their brows.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Then on her head a coronet was placed,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And she sat down by Clovis on his throne;
+</p>
+<p>
+And never was a throne so highly graced,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor ever monarch felt less sad and lone;
+</p>
+<p>
+He found in her a bride, and counsellor, as well,
+</p>
+<p>
+And happy are the men who in her palace dwell.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In tones of eloquence and words of power,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The wond'rous story of the cross she told;
+</p>
+<p>
+Christ's lowly birth, pure life, and of the hour
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+When He, to bring us to the heavenly fold,
+</p>
+<p>
+Bore on the cross our sins, and opened mercy's door,
+</p>
+<p>
+Then from the dead arose to reign for evermore.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Soon on Tolbiac's bloody field the king
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Led on his troops against a mighty foe;
+</p>
+<p>
+A foe too strong; for soon, though no weakling,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Clovis retreats&#8212;his men returned no blow;
+</p>
+<p>
+But fled as timid sheep before a beast of prey;
+</p>
+<p>
+The conquering Alemanni will surely win the day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;O king! cry on Clotilda's Christ for aid!&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Shouted Aurelian, as the monarch fled;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then, on his helmet, Clovis his hand laid,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And lifting it, these words the monarch said:
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;My gods have failed to help: O Christ, Clotilda's God,
+</p>
+<p>
+Grant me Thy mighty aid, and I will kiss Thy rod.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+On the French pennons triumph perches now;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The foe is routed by Clotilda's God;
+</p>
+<p>
+And Clovis wished to have upon his brow
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The symbol of her faith; for 'neath the rod
+</p>
+<p>
+Of the eternal King he bows his regal will,
+</p>
+<p>
+And waits, with heart devout, Christ's purpose to fulfil.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+On Rheims now dawns a cloudless Christmas morn;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And flags of silk and satin grace each tower;
+</p>
+<p>
+This is the day Clotilda's Christ was born,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And to His cause a great triumphal hour,
+</p>
+<p>
+For see, on carpet stretched from church to palace door,
+</p>
+<p>
+A grand procession march, of two-score priests or more!
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Remigius had led the way, and then,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Assisted by his priests, on monarch's brow,
+</p>
+<p>
+And on the brows of full six thousand men,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As they before the holy altar bow;
+</p>
+<p>
+The water from the font he sprinkled down like rain,
+</p>
+<p>
+Thankful that his blest Lord so many hearts should gain.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="70">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE WATER LILY
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+This lovely lily, so pure and white,
+</p>
+<p>
+Seems covered o'er with celestial light;
+</p>
+<p>
+As if it grew on the &#34;Tree of Life,&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+And not down here, in this world of strife;
+</p>
+<p>
+Too pure for earth it now seems to be;
+</p>
+<p>
+My queenly wife, it was meant for thee.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Its wax-like petals with graceful bend,
+</p>
+<p>
+Drink in the sunbeams as they descend;
+</p>
+<p>
+And lade with fragrance the heated air
+</p>
+<p>
+As it floats around us everywhere;
+</p>
+<p>
+And the world grows better by its advent,
+</p>
+<p>
+This lovely lily, so kindly sent.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+It rested once on its crystal bed;
+</p>
+<p>
+Neither wind, nor wave, occasioned dread;
+</p>
+<p>
+Admired by all as they passed it by,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though the contrast oft produced a sigh;
+</p>
+<p>
+In purer soil than affords this earth
+</p>
+<p>
+This lovely lily must have had its birth.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Dive down in search, where the root is found;
+</p>
+<p>
+In vain you look for the purer ground;
+</p>
+<p>
+The root is fixed in the foulest mud;
+</p>
+<p>
+And from it grows this pure lily bud;
+</p>
+<p>
+While speckled frogs, and the slimy eels,
+</p>
+<p>
+Around its roots find their daily meals.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As lilies fair from the foul mud grow,
+</p>
+<p>
+So oft it is with good men below;
+</p>
+<p>
+In daily life they absorb the pure,
+</p>
+<p>
+And the adverse elements endure;
+</p>
+<p>
+And rise, through grace, to a higher sphere,
+</p>
+<p>
+Their hearts in heaven, and their root down here.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Though foul the world where they have their growth,
+</p>
+<p>
+Unfit the soil, and the climate both,
+</p>
+<p>
+The blood of Christ does their stains remove;
+</p>
+<p>
+His power to keep they all daily prove;
+</p>
+<p>
+As lilies pure are these plants of grace,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though growing now in so foul a place.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="72">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;HE SHALL WIPE AWAY EVERY TEAR&#34;
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Every tear that dims the eye,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or bedews the careworn cheek,
+</p>
+<p>
+Will our God, who reigns on high,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With a hand so kind and meek,
+</p>
+<p>
+Wipe away, nor leave a trace
+</p>
+<p>
+Of its stain on eye or face.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+He alone life's ills can right.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Each His tender pity needs;
+</p>
+<p>
+None are hidden from His sight;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;<i>Every tear</i>,&#34; the promise reads&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Every tear shall cease to flow,
+</p>
+<p>
+Cease, likewise, the cause of woe.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+O may I in Him confide
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+While I tread this vale of tears!
+</p>
+<p>
+Walking closely by His side
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+He will dissipate my fears,
+</p>
+<p>
+And when ends the weary strife,
+</p>
+<p>
+May I share the tearless life!
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="73">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE TAJ OF AGRA
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The Shah Jehan sat with his much-loved wife,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The Empress Mahal, one hot summer day,
+</p>
+<p>
+In a cool arbor far from courtly strife,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Close by the Jumna, winding on its way.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In silence played they long their game of chess,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But Jehan's eyes rose oft to Mahal's brow,
+</p>
+<p>
+His ardent love he could not well repress,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor tried&#8212;she was his own rich jewel now.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+He stayed the game to breathe some words of love
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And press her lips with lips that knew no guile,
+</p>
+<p>
+And felt the thrill, and peace like white-winged dove
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Flew down, and she repaid with loving smile.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Then said, &#34;What would you do if I should die?&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+He paused a moment, some bright thought to woo,
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, in solemn tone, made this reply:
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;This thing, by Allah's help, I'll surely do:
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;I'll build upon the spot where we now sit
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The grandest tomb a woman ever had;
+</p>
+<p>
+All sombre tints I deem would be unfit;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For never have such tints thy bosom clad.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;Of pure white marble shall its walls be built,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Adorned with gold, and earth's most costly gems;
+</p>
+<p>
+Each minaret shall glow like jewelled hilt,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Sarcophagus surpass kings' diadems.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;Then to the world it shall the truth proclaim
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That Moomtaza surpassed all woman kind,
+</p>
+<p>
+And I esteemed her more than gold or fame:
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Thus cycles vast will find our names combined.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The summer breeze now sighed among the flowers
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As they play on with solemn thoughts; and sweet
+</p>
+<p>
+As running brook passed by the pleasant hours,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And likewise passed the burning summer heat.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And like the fading day, the Empress, too,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For scarce a year had passed ere set her sun,
+</p>
+<p>
+But Shah Jehan, to promise ever true,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Thought of the tomb his loving wife had won.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+No common architect would he engage;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From far and near he sought with eager heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last there came one Issa, gifted sage,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Whose plan pleased the great shah in whole and part.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+On the same spot where they that day had played
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The game of chess, and he the promise gave,
+</p>
+<p>
+The massive stone foundation strong was laid,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+On which would rest a palace o'er her grave.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Then Issa disappeared, but where, none knew;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Cast in the Jumna stream, by foes, some thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+They dragged the stream, nor came the slightest clue,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And on his fate the oracles were dumb.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The years rolled by, yet Jehan rested not,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' hope, so long delayed, engendered gloom,
+</p>
+<p>
+Content to live himself in any cot;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But no inferior hand must touch her tomb.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Seven years had gone, when Issa came again,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And offered this excuse for his delay,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;The soil is spongy all along this glen&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To have it settle I have stayed away.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;I now can build on base that will not sink,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though pierced the clouds which bend so kindly down,
+</p>
+<p>
+'Twere fit this long delay, dost thou not think?
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+So chide me not nor on thy servant frown.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Then on this base as firm as granite rock,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+He built its walls as fair as falling snow,
+</p>
+<p>
+And built them well, nor storm, nor earthquake shock
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Has moved, tho' built two hundred years ago.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+For ten long years wrought twenty thousand men,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+While many thousand carts the marble drew;
+</p>
+<p>
+And proud Jehan told o'er his love again;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To love so Jacob-like the years seemed few.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+From every part of his domain they brought
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Rare gems and precious stones of every hue;
+</p>
+<p>
+Skilled hands, in form of birds and flowers inwrought
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In snow-white walls, these gems the building through,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The name of God, one hundred times save one,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+On the sarcophagus, by cunning hand,
+</p>
+<p>
+Then lined with gold ere they pronounced it done;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But then the grandest tomb in any land.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+By Titans built, it seems, as mountain high
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of pure white marble, based on pink sandstone;
+</p>
+<p>
+In length it is a thousand feet well nigh,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Its width three hundred feet by measure shown.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+It seems a temple of the living
+<i>
+One</i>,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though tomb to hide the dust of Jehan's queen.
+</p>
+<p>
+It serves each purpose well&#8212;her course was run,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Returned to God, love must the dust ensheen.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+To many hearts it speaks of God and rest,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And lifts our thoughts above the things of earth;
+</p>
+<p>
+It teaches us that love will give its best,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And then regard its gifts of little worth.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="78">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+ENGLAND'S BRAVE SONS
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The yeoman lays aside his soil-stained smock,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And from his herd selects a trusty steed,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And sallies forth to help in hour of need;
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+Nor dreads the battle's shock.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The artisan from mine, or shop, or store,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Responds at duty's call without delay,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor stops to ask, &#34;What will my nation pay?&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+It calls&#8212;what needs he more?
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The man of law&#8212;the herald of the cross&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The painter, skilled&#8212;he of the healing art&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The man of trade&#8212;come each with loyal heart,
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+Nor calculates his loss.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But brave as these are those of noble birth;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Genteel in manner, but with athlete frames,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They do full honor to their ancient names,
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+And prove by deeds their worth.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Palatial homes have they and wealth untold;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor need to labor, and no cause for fret,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But deeds of noble sires they ne'er forget;
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+Deem honor more than gold.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Brave lads are these on whom we may rely.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They go uncalled, content the gaps to fill,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And in their places fall, if God so will,
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+For they fear not to die.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The whole Empire is loyal to the core.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From far-off East, brave Indians seek the fray,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And on French soil have clearly shown that they
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+Were true to flag they bore.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Their old-time leader greets his men once more,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Bestows his parting blessing ere his death,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And praised their valor with his final breath,
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+Then crossed to
+<i>
+other
+</i>
+shore.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our own brave youth by thousands answer call,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And in our common cause enroll their names;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With cultured minds and well-developed frames
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+They stand like granite wall.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+For
+<i>
+truth
+</i>
+and
+<i>
+brotherhood
+</i>
+all face the foe;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Themselves they cannot save, but others may.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But, live or die, they hope to win the day.
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+To sacrifice they go!
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="80">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+QUEEN VICTORIA
+</p>
+<p class="subtitle">
+A Prize Birthday Poem, 1885.
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We do not sing of vast domain&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Empires as vast as ours are seen,
+</p>
+<p>
+And o'er their millions despots reign;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+We sing the virtues of our Queen.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We think of her when but a maid
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The message came, &#34;<i>the King is dead!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+And at her feet a crown was laid;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In deep distress of mind, she said:
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;<i>In my behalf I ask your prayers.</i>&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Then falling on her knees to pray,
+</p>
+<p>
+She told the Lord her fears and cares,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And sought from Him strength for her day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+He seemed to say, &#34;<i>Child, do not fear;</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+I will uphold thee with my hand,</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+And I will make thy pathway clear,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+Thy throne establish in the land.</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+'Twas thus began Victoria's reign,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And God has made her throne secure;
+</p>
+<p>
+Her enemies will plot in vain,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For it is destined to endure.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But while she sits on regal throne,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And acts full well a regal part,
+</p>
+<p>
+She reigns not on the throne alone,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+She reigns to-day in England's heart.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Her queenly heart with pity throbs
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For every suffering subject's woes;
+</p>
+<p>
+In lowly cot, 'midst groans and sobs,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+She like a ray of sunshine goes.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As sweet perfume by outward gale
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Is carried far o'er sea and land,
+</p>
+<p>
+So queenly virtues never fail
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To touch true hearts on every strand.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In every land, her name is blest;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+She is beloved by old and young;
+</p>
+<p>
+From pole to pole, from east to west,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The song, &#34;God save the Queen,&#34; is sung.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Through sorrows deep her path has led,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And tender ties have sundered been;
+</p>
+<p>
+Bright hopes were buried with her dead,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And love has kept their memory green.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+By grief secluded from the world,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Her path through lonely years she trod,
+</p>
+<p>
+And oft her life has been imperilled;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But she has leaned upon her God.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And as she wept a nation's tears
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In heartfelt sympathy were shed;
+</p>
+<p>
+Forgetting their own griefs and biers,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They wept beside the royal dead.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+With grateful hearts her natal day
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+We loyal Britons hail again,
+</p>
+<p>
+And join with millions as they pray
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;<i>God bless our Queen! Long may she reign!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And when at last life's glories fade,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And robes of state are laid aside,
+</p>
+<p>
+When nature's debt to dust is paid
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And charms no more earth's pomp and pride,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+May angel bands her spirit bear
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Up to the palace of her King,
+</p>
+<p>
+Where she a fadeless crown shall wear,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And the new song with rapture sing.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="83">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+SILVER TONES
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A stately church by pious hands erected long ago,
+</p>
+<p>
+Was found to lack a vesper bell, by which the poor might know
+</p>
+<p>
+The hour of prayer, the hour of mass, and who had lately died,
+</p>
+<p>
+The hour when gent and bonny lass, so timid at his side,
+</p>
+<p>
+Would stand before the surpliced priest, and twain would pledge their troth,
+</p>
+<p>
+The hour in which the priest would vent on heretic his wrath.
+</p>
+<p>
+The faithful then were called upon to bring from home and mine
+</p>
+<p>
+The metal for the holy bell, which must be strong and fine.
+</p>
+<p>
+In smelting pot of massive size they placed the needed ore;
+</p>
+<p>
+A molten mass it soon became, but ere in mould they pour,
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus provide a bell for God to grace His temple fair,
+</p>
+<p>
+In crowds the people came, to see the metal glowing there.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then as they passed, with hearts devout, each took a silver coin
+</p>
+<p>
+And dropped it in the glowing mass&#8212;no priest did this enjoin.
+</p>
+<p>
+They wished to show their grateful love to Him who bore their sin;
+</p>
+<p>
+A simple form which love took on, not done God's grace to win.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor did they hope to win applause from priest and saintly friar;
+</p>
+<p>
+If God were pleased they asked no more, nor more did they desire;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor did they deem their silver lost, though little dreamed they then
+</p>
+<p>
+The grand result of their small gifts, which now is known to men.
+</p>
+<p>
+Their coins were for a moment seen, like flakes of snow on sward,
+</p>
+<p>
+And then they melted out of sight, yet, seen by their blest Lord,
+</p>
+<p>
+They mingled with the glowing mass, and when in high church tower
+</p>
+<p>
+The bell was hung and daily rung, all people felt its power.
+</p>
+<p>
+Its booming tones were soft and sweet, and echoed o'er their hills
+</p>
+<p>
+In a grand symphony of praise, subduing all their wills,
+</p>
+<p>
+And calling forth from old and young a burst of rapturous praise.
+</p>
+<p>
+Their gifts, though small, were not despised; God turned them into lays.
+</p>
+<p>
+This world is one great smelting pot in which life's ore is cast,
+</p>
+<p>
+And from it God will some day bring a bell, destined to last
+</p>
+<p>
+And ring aloud in thunder tones wherever man is found.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, may we, by kind words and deeds, give it a silver sound!
+</p>
+<p>
+Each word though short, each deed though small, if for the Master's sake
+</p>
+<p>
+Are said and done, like silver coin, our blessed Lord will take,
+</p>
+<p>
+And skillfully will blend them with the coarser ore of earth,
+</p>
+<p>
+And grander music none have heard e'er since time had its birth.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then from this bell of silver tone will sound o'er hill and vale:
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;The work men do in Jesus' name is never known to fail.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="86">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+GOD'S ORDER
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Every flower that decks the way,
+</p>
+<p>
+Whether it be dun or gay,
+</p>
+<p>
+Fills a place in God's great plan,
+</p>
+<p>
+Serving Him, while pleasing man.
+</p>
+<p>
+Every star that gilds the night
+</p>
+<p>
+With its beams of silver light
+</p>
+<p>
+Has its mission to fulfil,
+</p>
+<p>
+As assigned it by God's will.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Feathered songsters all declare
+</p>
+<p>
+As they cleave the ambient air,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;He who made us made our lays,
+</p>
+<p>
+Giving each a note of praise;
+</p>
+<p>
+Each one's note, unique and sweet,
+</p>
+<p>
+Helps to make the song complete;
+</p>
+<p>
+Various tones, yet all agree,
+</p>
+<p>
+Forming one grand symphony.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+So, also, does God's own hand
+</p>
+<p>
+Fix in place each grain of sand,
+</p>
+<p>
+Tiny though that grain may be
+</p>
+<p>
+Hangs on it the destiny
+</p>
+<p>
+Of a world, yea, systems whole,
+</p>
+<p>
+As they in their orbits roll;
+</p>
+<p>
+Should it from its globe remove,
+</p>
+<p>
+Worlds would clash and chaos prove.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+When we reach the world of mind
+</p>
+<p>
+Law and order still we find;
+</p>
+<p>
+In God's purpose is a plan
+</p>
+<p>
+For the life of every man.
+</p>
+<p>
+Free, he may his own course choose,
+</p>
+<p>
+Help divine through pride refuse,
+</p>
+<p>
+But disorder will ensue&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Life a wreck! Yet God is true.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="88">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+INFLUENCE
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In gentle showers the rain descends,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And softly falls the dew.
+</p>
+<p>
+The dewdrop with the raindrop blends;
+</p>
+<p>
+The tiny stream they form then wends
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Its way the grasses through.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And kindred streams with it combine
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And form a rivulet;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then on it runs like trailing vine,
+</p>
+<p>
+Lays bare the roots of oak and pine,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And other brooks are met.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The swelling stream meanders on,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Gives power to busy mills,
+</p>
+<p>
+And bears huge ships its breast upon,
+</p>
+<p>
+Gives drink to kine and lovely fawn,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And drinks up other rills.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A lady's foot had changed its course,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And drank it dry a lamb,
+</p>
+<p>
+Had they but sought it at its source;
+</p>
+<p>
+But now it rushes on with force
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And leaps the mighty dam.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Thus is it with our influence here;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Each look, each word, each deed,
+</p>
+<p>
+Is like the rain, or dewdrop clear&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Though tiny things they now appear,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They to the ocean lead.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As grains of sand make up the hill
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which towers above the plain,
+</p>
+<p>
+And drops combine to swell the rill
+</p>
+<p>
+Which helps the mighty sea to fill,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+So does our influence gain.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="90">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+UNDECAYING FRUIT
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Doomed to decay are all things here;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Whate'er their form or worth,
+</p>
+<p>
+Color and beauty disappear,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or turn to mother earth.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The luscious fruits which please the taste
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And please the eye as well,
+</p>
+<p>
+Sometimes reduced to rot and waste,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Ere from the tree they fell&#8212;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Some gathered with a gentle hand,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And stored away with care,
+</p>
+<p>
+To serve a place in banquet grand,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Some favorite peach or pear,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Is found diseased in skin and core,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And loathsome to the sight,
+</p>
+<p>
+When 'tis too late to gather more,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And comes the festal night.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+So is it with all earthly joy&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+It pleases for a time,
+</p>
+<p>
+As toy may please a growing boy,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though costing but a dime;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But soon he tires and asks for more,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Appropriate to his age;
+</p>
+<p>
+So, though a man may higher soar
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And greater aims engage
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+His active mind, he, like the child,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Soon looks for something new.
+</p>
+<p>
+Too oft are men by this beguiled
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And fail to find the true.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But he who goes to Christ for rest,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Finds fruit that ne'er decays.
+</p>
+<p>
+He sups with Christ as welcome guest,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And glory crowns his days.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="92">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE HEROES OF OUR DAY
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Heroic deeds in every age
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Command the world's esteem;
+</p>
+<p>
+Each finds a place in history's page,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Midst gloom a glory beam.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And we full oft revert to this,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To show man's true descent
+</p>
+<p>
+From Him who is the source of bliss,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' now by passions rent.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But we need not consult the past;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The present bears this fruit:
+</p>
+<p>
+The hero race will ever last;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The tree is sound at root.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And never has the world excelled
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The present in this line;
+</p>
+<p>
+Our loving Lord has not withheld
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From us this trait divine.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And we should not from them withhold
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The praise we feel is due
+</p>
+<p>
+For deeds of love, and actions bold,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For spirit kind and true.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Their worth we now should recognize,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Not chant it o'er their graves;
+</p>
+<p>
+The hero of the past we prize,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+No less the man who braves
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The dangers of the present hour,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The sneers which now are rife,
+</p>
+<p>
+Not for the sake of earthly power,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor yet to save his life.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But for the good of fellow man,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And for his Master's sake,
+</p>
+<p>
+He shuns no cross, and fears no ban;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Tis these a hero make.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="94">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE BIG BEAR CREEK
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The waters of the Big Bear creek
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Glide slowly on their way;
+</p>
+<p>
+The western lakes they surely seek,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which they will reach some day;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But sluggishly they seek their end&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They scarcely seem to move;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet through the fields and round each bend
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Their progress daily prove.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+By debris borne upon their breast,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And strewn along each shore,
+</p>
+<p>
+They slowly move, but never rest,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet turbid evermore.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But when they reach the Johnson bend
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And the Sni Chartna meet,
+</p>
+<p>
+The turbid and the sky-blue blend&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The union is complete.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And soon is lost all trace of mud;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of azure tint the whole;
+</p>
+<p>
+With heaven's own hue the rolling flood
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Has gained the long-sought goal.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+So is it with the soul renewed
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+While on its heaven-bound way,
+</p>
+<p>
+With grace divine it is embued,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet shows the trace of clay.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And though to rest it never halts,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Its progress is so slow;
+</p>
+<p>
+Alas, it has too many faults,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor much of heavenly glow.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But when God's sanctifying grace
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Shall meet it from above,
+</p>
+<p>
+You seek in vain for sinful trace&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+It now is full of love.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A new impulse it then receives
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which speeds it on its way;
+</p>
+<p>
+To it no stain of sin now cleaves&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+It seeks its perfect day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And as the azure stream has found
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Its home in brimming lake,
+</p>
+<p>
+So shall the soul thus heavenward bound
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of God's own joy partake.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="96">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE FROST ON THE WINDOW
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Feathery frost on the window-pane,
+</p>
+<p>
+Who placed you there? &#34;I cannot explain,&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+Each little feather at once replied;
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;But this I know, I'm the children's pride,
+</p>
+<p>
+As they think I fell from an angel's wing,
+</p>
+<p>
+And coming to earth must rich blessings bring.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;I once formed part of a lovely bay;
+</p>
+<p>
+The sun shone out, and I turned to spray,
+</p>
+<p>
+And rose aloft on the ambient air,
+</p>
+<p>
+To the regions high where all is rare;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then I mingled with my old friends again,
+</p>
+<p>
+Who were my neighbors in the haunts of men.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;On the blustering wind, I rode along,
+</p>
+<p>
+Sometimes hard tossed by the tempest strong,
+</p>
+<p>
+And then at rest, as when in the bay,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though much enlarged, the wise savants say;
+</p>
+<p>
+Though I cannot tell you how long my sleep,
+</p>
+<p>
+With a chill I woke and began to weep.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;And my ample form much smaller grew,
+</p>
+<p>
+By the cold compressed to a drop of dew;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then down I fell, swift as bounding deer,
+</p>
+<p>
+And knew no more till I fell right here;
+</p>
+<p>
+But how I became so like a feather
+</p>
+<p>
+Is problem I can unravel never.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;But, oh, how the sun begins to burn!
+</p>
+<p>
+I think I must to the clouds return.
+</p>
+<p>
+Farewell, my boy! but you must not fret;
+</p>
+<p>
+We meet again, as we now have met,
+</p>
+<p>
+If not as a feather, perhaps a tree,
+</p>
+<p>
+Or whatever the Wise One may make of me.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="98">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;WILT THOU HARASS A DRIVEN LEAF?&#34;
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+O harass not a driven leaf,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor stubble dry in wrath pursue;
+</p>
+<p>
+A life so brief load not with grief,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor with thine arrow pierce me through.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The fragile leaf, by tempest tost,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Is scarcely worth a passing thought;
+</p>
+<p>
+The brook is crossed, and then is lost;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+There let it lie, a thing of naught.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The stubble dry ne'er grows again;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To golden grain it gave its sap.
+</p>
+<p>
+It died, and then 'twas left by men
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To rot betimes, or some mishap.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Am I not like the stubble dry
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And fragile leaf by tempest strewed?
+</p>
+<p>
+Must I not die, then tell me why
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A thing so frail is thus pursued?
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A voice replies: &#34;Thy life is frail,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Much like the leaf and stubble dry;
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy strength must fail, and as the gale
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Bears them away, so must thou die;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;But live again, in bliss, or pain;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For death to man does not end all;
+</p>
+<p>
+Life is not vain, if thou but gain
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A
+<i>
+home in heaven</i>, when I shall call!
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;To fit thy soul for endless rest,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I harass now the driven leaf,
+</p>
+<p>
+But though sore pressed and grief distressed,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The life of sorrow will be brief.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;And when released from suffering clay,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Thy blood-bought spirit shall arise
+</p>
+<p>
+To endless day. Then thou shalt say,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+The ways of God are good and wise.</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="100">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+A GEM
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The gem is not this ode itself;
+</p>
+<p>
+Hardly can it aspire so high.
+</p>
+<p>
+Earth has its gems; but all its wealth,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Increased by thousands, cannot buy
+</p>
+<p>
+Man's
+<i>
+soul</i>, the gem of priceless worth,
+</p>
+<p>
+Made in God's image at its birth;
+</p>
+<p>
+Ordained to live for evermore;
+</p>
+<p>
+Redeemed by blood from sin and hell;
+</p>
+<p>
+Transformed by grace, God's love to tell;
+</p>
+<p>
+And at His feet its homage pour.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lordly are its endowments, too;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Superb its destiny, if true;
+</p>
+<p>
+Only below, said one who knew,
+</p>
+<p>
+Unfallen angels round God's throne.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lord, may this gem be Thine alone.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="101">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE CLOUDS
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A grand stairway do these clouds appear
+</p>
+<p>
+As they heavenward rise, tier upon tier,
+</p>
+<p>
+With clearly-marked space of blue between,
+</p>
+<p>
+Compared with which human art looks mean.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Do the angels tread this grand staircase,
+</p>
+<p>
+When they come to earth to bless our race,
+</p>
+<p>
+And lend their aid to each struggling soul
+</p>
+<p>
+As he ascends toward the heavenly goal?
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Was this the ladder by Jacob seen,
+</p>
+<p>
+That reached from heaven to the mattress green
+</p>
+<p>
+On which he lay all the lonely night
+</p>
+<p>
+Till God afforded the blessed sight,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And made him feel, tho' an exile here,
+</p>
+<p>
+His father's God would be ever near&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+The servant's cry would to heaven arise,
+</p>
+<p>
+And blessings fall from the bending skies?
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But no staircase do the angels need;
+</p>
+<p>
+They come to earth at a greater speed,
+</p>
+<p>
+Not step by step, nor on eagle's wing,
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor beams of light do their message bring.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Though heaven be far beyond mortal ken,
+</p>
+<p>
+Assisted by all the arts of men,
+</p>
+<p>
+A moment's time and the space is passed,
+</p>
+<p>
+And heaven's best gifts at our feet are cast.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Not a cloud stairway, nor ladder long,
+</p>
+<p>
+Connects this earth with the land of song;
+</p>
+<p>
+The Saviour bends from the opening skies&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+He smiles in love, and our souls arise.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As flakes of steel to the magnet fly,
+</p>
+<p>
+And mists ascend to the sun on high,
+</p>
+<p>
+So we are drawn by the cords of love
+</p>
+<p>
+From the earth below to thrones above.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+O lift me up from my bed of clay,
+</p>
+<p>
+To dwell with Thee in the realms of day.
+</p>
+<p>
+If 'tis Thy will I should tarry still,
+</p>
+<p>
+Prepare me, Lord, for Thy Holy Hill.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="103">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE MOSSES
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Exquisite mosses, so lovely and green,
+</p>
+<p>
+Covering the rocks with emerald sheen;
+</p>
+<p>
+Hiding the scars which convulsions have made;
+</p>
+<p>
+Blessing the mound where our angel was laid;
+</p>
+<p>
+Forming a carpet on which we may tread;
+</p>
+<p>
+Clothing with beauty the rotten and dead;
+</p>
+<p>
+Sheathing from storm-blasts the young forest tree&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Beautiful mosses, examples for me.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Trod under foot by all kinds of men;
+</p>
+<p>
+Gracing the mountain or hid in the fen;
+</p>
+<p>
+Never adorning the brow of the fair;
+</p>
+<p>
+Seldom deemed worthy some corner to share
+</p>
+<p>
+In the bouquets that are cast in the way
+</p>
+<p>
+Princely feet tread on reception's proud day;
+</p>
+<p>
+The glory of roses do not attain;
+</p>
+<p>
+Beautiful mosses, ye grow not in vain.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Answer the end by your Maker designed.
+</p>
+<p>
+Humble your bloom, but your mission is kind.
+</p>
+<p>
+Those will most prize you who knew you the best.
+</p>
+<p>
+Cover me o'er when I lie down to rest;
+</p>
+<p>
+Cover, likewise, in the marble my name,
+</p>
+<p>
+Hiding forever that index of shame;
+</p>
+<p>
+But tell to the world, &#34;as life he passed through,
+</p>
+<p>
+He covered some scars and aimed to be true.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="105">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE GRANDEST THEME
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The grandest theme for tongue, or pen,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Is not the heavens supernal;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor mighty deeds of God-like men,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though they may be eternal;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Nor Alpine heights, nor lovely vale,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With brooks and grazing cattle;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor awful roar of rushing gale,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Beyond the noise of battle;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Nor clashing arms, nor trembling earth;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor heaving waves of ocean;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor record of a nation's birth;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor heaven's cloud-cars in motion.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The grandest theme, for tongue, or pen,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Above all else in glory;
+</p>
+<p>
+Which suits alike, all sinful men,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Is the sweet Gospel story,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Which tells me of my Saviour's love
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And infinite compassion,
+</p>
+<p>
+Which brought Him from His throne above
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To Calvary's cross and passion.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And now the holy angels sing,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With blood-washed souls in glory,
+</p>
+<p>
+A song which makes heaven's arches ring
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+About this Gospel story.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="107">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+SEPTEMBER
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The hills are clad in purple and in gold,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The ripened maize is gathered in the shock,
+</p>
+<p>
+The frost has kissed the nuts, their shells unfold,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And fallen leaves are floating on the lock.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The flowers their many-colored petals drop;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But seed-pods full and ripe they leave behind,
+</p>
+<p>
+A prophecy of more abundant crop,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And proof that nature in decay is kind.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But still the dahlia blooms, and pansies, too;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The golden-rod still rears its yellow crest.
+</p>
+<p>
+The sumach bobs are now of crimson hue,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The luscious grape has donned its purple vest.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The forest trees, so long arrayed in green,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Wear now a robe like Joseph's coat of old,
+</p>
+<p>
+Brighter than that on eastern satrap seen,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' clad was he in purple and fine gold.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The woodbine twined about the giant oak
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Blends with its purple-red a brighter shade.
+</p>
+<p>
+Co-mingled thus our praises they evoke,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' we know well this glory soon must fade.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The fields are green with grass and new-sown wheat,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' here and there a brown stalk may appear,
+</p>
+<p>
+A dying rag-weed, ripened by the heat,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To reproduce an hundred-fold next year.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The melon yellows in the kindly sun,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The peach puts on its blush like virtuous maid,
+</p>
+<p>
+The gourd its snow-white band like brow of nun,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+While flower and gum the air with fragrance lade.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The swallows gather on the fence and wire,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Chatter a loud farewell to barn and nest,
+</p>
+<p>
+And then on wings which never seem to tire
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They fly away in southern bowers to rest.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The thrush no longer sings its tender song
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In osage thicket, or in locust hedge,
+</p>
+<p>
+But pipes its notes the negro boys among,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+On cotton plant, or Alabama sedge.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The blackbird lingers by the flowing brook,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or perches proudly on the shock of corn;
+</p>
+<p>
+The lark still hovers round its meadow nook,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And soars and sings as on a vernal morn.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The robin, too, is loth to quit the lawn
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And visits yet his nest beneath the eaves;
+</p>
+<p>
+I hear his cheering notes at early dawn&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To part with these old friends my spirit grieves.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But soon these feathered songsters must away,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Ere winter's frosts shall chill them thro' and thro';
+</p>
+<p>
+In other lands they find the summer day,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The opening flower, and the refreshing dew.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The air, tho' chill, is not surcharged with death,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But health-inspiring germs it bears along.
+</p>
+<p>
+We drink in vigor with our every breath,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And life appears like spring, each day a song.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+God spreads a carpet for our weary feet,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Richer than those which grace the palace floor;
+</p>
+<p>
+The rainbow hues are in it all complete,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And tints, I think, of full a thousand more.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+God with His hands of wind for woof collects
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The forest leaves, and weaves them with the grass,
+</p>
+<p>
+With nap of richest hues the fabric decks,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And spreads it out for feet of every class.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A haze at times may veil the smiling sky,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The sun his golden locks exchange for gray;
+</p>
+<p>
+But soon a western blast comes sweeping by&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The mists depart, and glory crowns the day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The lowing cattle roam from field to field;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+No more content in narrow bounds to stay;
+</p>
+<p>
+The ozone in the autumn air has healed
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Their every ill, and lo, the dull beasts play.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+This season has its lesson each should learn&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The fading leaf reminds us of our doom;
+</p>
+<p>
+But whether like the stately tree, or fern,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In hope we travel onward to the tomb.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We look not for the Winter, but the Spring,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+When we shall glow in beauty from the skies;
+</p>
+<p>
+Each now his tribute sheaf of praise should bring,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Then hear his Lord's &#34;Well done!&#34; O glorious prize.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="111">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE FLOWERS
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Some flowers are brighter far in hue
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Than others by their side,
+</p>
+<p>
+But God baptizes all with dew,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And spreads His mantle wide
+</p>
+<p>
+To cover all for half the day,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From rays of scorching sun,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though some may shine in colors gay,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And some in sober dun.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And I account each one my friend,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The stately and the plain.
+</p>
+<p>
+Diverse their hue, but not their end;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For me none bloom in vain;
+</p>
+<p>
+For all proclaim their Maker's skill,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And point to bloom above;
+</p>
+<p>
+In God's great plan their part fulfil,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And whisper &#34;God is
+<i>
+love</i>.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The fragrance lades the summer air
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With health-inspiring germs,
+</p>
+<p>
+Ascend on high as nature's prayer,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Suggesting well the terms
+</p>
+<p>
+Of God-accepted prayer from man,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Odors of grateful praise;
+</p>
+<p>
+For though in penitence began,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+It ends in joyful lays.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="113">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE BUD
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The winter through I lay asleep,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Unconscious and unseen;
+</p>
+<p>
+The howling winds disturbed me not,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor felt the frost tho' keen.
+</p>
+<p>
+Thick blankets covered me about,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And kept me dry and warm,
+</p>
+<p>
+And weeks and months passed quickly by
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And I received no harm.
+</p>
+<p>
+At last I felt uneasy in
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+My cosy little cot,
+</p>
+<p>
+Tho' it was lined with softest down.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The cause I knew not what.
+</p>
+<p>
+I struggled hard to free myself,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But struggled all in vain;
+</p>
+<p>
+My blankets felt the strain, 'tis true,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And opened to the rain,
+</p>
+<p>
+But just enough for me to see
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The frowning sky o'erhead;
+</p>
+<p>
+I closed my eyes, in sad affright,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And wished that I was dead.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But soon a change came o'er my frame,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Much like electric shock;
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, how I longed for some rare key
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With which I might unlock
+</p>
+<p>
+My prison door, for I now felt
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The breath of coming Spring,
+</p>
+<p>
+And heard, likewise, her merry laugh,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Like silver bells its ring.
+</p>
+<p>
+My lips were close to blanket rent,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I ceased my useless strife,
+</p>
+<p>
+And she bent over me in love,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And kissed me into life.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="115">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+BEAUTIFUL SKY
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+O beautiful sky of every hue;
+</p>
+<p>
+Golden and purple, crimson and blue,
+</p>
+<p>
+With some sombre lines thrown in between,
+</p>
+<p>
+And some bright spots of emerald green.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The earth is wed to the sun it seems,
+</p>
+<p>
+And to grace the robe of his royal bride
+</p>
+<p>
+No pains are spared, nor a tint untried,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And thus complete it with glory gleams.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+He wields his brush as an artist now;
+</p>
+<p>
+Lo beauty glows on the earth's fair brow!
+</p>
+<p>
+And the lovely flowers at once arise
+</p>
+<p>
+To match the glow of the radiant skies,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The sparkling dewdrops at morn are seen,
+</p>
+<p>
+Close nestling among the petals rare,
+</p>
+<p>
+Like crystal studs in a maiden's hair,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Brighter then gems which adorn a queen.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="116">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Buttercups and daisies growing everywhere,
+</p>
+<p>
+In the field of clover, on the hillside fair,
+</p>
+<p>
+And in lovely valley, tilled with greatest care.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Naught but weeds and rubbish, in the farmer's eyes,
+</p>
+<p>
+Drawing off the nurture from the grain they prize,
+</p>
+<p>
+And their great luxuriance sore their patience tries.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But the dews of heaven give them richest bloom,
+</p>
+<p>
+And their smiling beauty drives away our gloom;
+</p>
+<p>
+For such little beauties surely there is room.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In this world of sorrow flowers ne'er bloom in vain,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though they in their blooming sap the golden grain,
+</p>
+<p>
+And drink in the moisture of the latter rain;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+For our Heavenly Father deemed it wise and good
+</p>
+<p>
+To diffuse this beauty with the grain for food.
+</p>
+<p>
+And this wise arrangement He has never rued.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Teaching us this lesson we are slow to learn;
+</p>
+<p>
+Man lives not for eating, nor for duties stern,
+</p>
+<p>
+But to serve God's pleasure, then to Him return.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Room for joy is given and for purest bliss,
+</p>
+<p>
+And we may all find them in a world like this,
+</p>
+<p>
+If our aims are sordid all this gold we miss;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But if we are faithful and to God inclined,
+</p>
+<p>
+Seeing Him in nature, and of heavenly mind,
+</p>
+<p>
+Aiming to be like Him, and by grace refined,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We shall live forever where there is no gloom;
+</p>
+<p>
+Though the path to glory leadeth through the tomb;
+</p>
+<p>
+But a moment's darkness&#8212;flowers that ever bloom.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="118">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE MOSS ROSE
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+'Tis said, long since an angel came to earth,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Sent by his Lord, to help with loving hand
+</p>
+<p>
+A suffering one, afflicted from his birth.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The limb was healed as by divine command,
+</p>
+<p>
+But He felt weak, for strength from Him had gone,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A sacrifice which love could not withhold;
+</p>
+<p>
+So he sought shelter till the morning dawn,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But none received&#8212;they prized not love, but gold.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Then 'neath a rose bush did the angel lie,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And rested well until the break of day,
+</p>
+<p>
+When much refreshed he sought his home on high,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But ere he started on his upward way,
+</p>
+<p>
+He said to sheltering rose, in loving voice,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;What man refused thou hast afforded me.
+</p>
+<p>
+What is thy wish? Make known to me thy choice;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The God of love and power will grant it thee!&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;I ask no brighter hue,&#34; the rose replied,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;Both old and young smile on me as they pass,
+</p>
+<p>
+My buds adorn the bosom of the bride,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And hide among the locks of lovely lass;
+</p>
+<p>
+With fragrance, too, I own myself content,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For naught on earth surpasses me in this;
+</p>
+<p>
+But if, indeed, my Maker thee has sent
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I ask but this, to consummate my bliss:
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;I feel the cold, both in my bark and bud,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+When Autumn winds sweep o'er the western hill,
+</p>
+<p>
+And frozen dewdrops oft my branches stud,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which mar my beauty and my juices chill.
+</p>
+<p>
+Give me an extra garb, 'tis all I lack.&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;Thou hast thy wish, I shelter found in thee,
+</p>
+<p>
+I take delight in kind to pay thee back.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Let softest moss thy extra garment be.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Then touched the angel bark, and bud, and leaf,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And soft green moss suffused it o'er and o'er.
+</p>
+<p>
+He lingered near it for a moment brief,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Plucked off a bud, which he to heaven bore;
+</p>
+<p>
+And now the rose smiles at the raging storm,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Defies the wind and nipping frost as well;
+</p>
+<p>
+Its fragrance still retains, and lovely form,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+While nestling budlets this old story tell.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="120">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+GOD'S CARE
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I fear not, my Father, the tempest's loud roar,
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor dread the huge breakers on the rock-girded shore;
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy presence is with me, my refuge is near,
+</p>
+<p>
+With help all-sufficient; oh, why should I fear?
+</p>
+<p>
+Tho' billows of sorrow should roll o'er my head,
+</p>
+<p>
+My sun sink in darkness, and joys be all dead,
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy presence will cheer me, and spectres will flee,
+</p>
+<p>
+For who can molest me while trusting in thee?
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="121">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MY LOT
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My lot on earth is not all mirth,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor is it constant gloom;
+</p>
+<p>
+Some joys decay and fall away,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But leave much lasting bloom.
+</p>
+<p>
+My wishes are not always met,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And cares press hard at times;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet joyous strains ne'er sink to fret,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' dollars shrink to dimes.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My earthly lot boasts not a cot,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+No foot of land I own,
+</p>
+<p>
+No bank account nor phosphate mount,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor credit for a loan;
+</p>
+<p>
+But I can read my title clear
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To mansion, robe, and crown;
+</p>
+<p>
+I couple these with lot down here,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And sing, tho' foes may frown.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="122">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+GOD'S FOOT ON THE CRADLE
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The air is chill with the frost of doubt,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And men's hearts are sadly failing;
+</p>
+<p>
+They do not hear the great Victor's shout;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But indulge in bitter wailing.
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;The old gives place to the new,&#34; they say,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;And fond hopes are daily buried;
+</p>
+<p>
+Our cherished views are oft borne away,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As if by the tempest hurried.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;The world is stirred to its very heart,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And the Church shares the commotion;
+</p>
+<p>
+With systems old, we are loathe to part,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To sail on an unknown ocean.
+</p>
+<p>
+The world now heaves like the great sea's breast,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And rocks like an infant's cradle;
+</p>
+<p>
+And looking up, by sore grief oppressed,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+We find the sky draped in sable.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I will not fear, though the earth should rock,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If God's foot be on the cradle;
+</p>
+<p>
+But rest in peace midst the tempest's shock,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Rejoicing that God is able
+</p>
+<p>
+To still the world with His mighty hand,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If His timid child should waken;
+</p>
+<p>
+Or, if it rock, He will by me stand;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And my heart shall not be shaken.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="124">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+GOD'S GIFTS TO BE ENJOYED
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+From God's all bounteous hand descend
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Rare gifts in rich effusion,
+</p>
+<p>
+And with those gifts no poisons blend,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor is their end delusion;
+</p>
+<p>
+So do not spurn if He bestow
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Those forms arrayed in beauty;
+</p>
+<p>
+If thus His gifts with radiance glow,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Enjoyment is a duty.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Come, deck your brows with leaves and flowers,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Ye fair ones, nothing fearing;
+</p>
+<p>
+Adorn your homes and train your bowers
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor deem this sin's appearing;
+</p>
+<p>
+We do not fit ourselves for bliss
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+By scorning all adorning;
+</p>
+<p>
+We may enjoy the good of this
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And share heaven's brighter morning.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A garment plain may have its stain,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And saintly brows lack sweetness;
+</p>
+<p>
+But he who would heaven's glory gain
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Must here acquire a meetness;
+</p>
+<p>
+So eat and drink, rejoice and sing,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But don't forget the ending;
+</p>
+<p>
+The bells of earth more sweetly ring
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If we are heavenward tending.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The world we use, but not abuse,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If we enjoy its beauty;
+</p>
+<p>
+And they who all its joys refuse
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Miss privilege and duty.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then prize earth's joys, but prize much more
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The bloom beyond the river;
+</p>
+<p>
+God's gifts enjoy, but e'er adore
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The ever blessed Giver.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="126">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE HIGHEST GOAL
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The highest goal is not success,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If that be made the aim;
+</p>
+<p>
+But faithfulness, tho' counted less,
+</p>
+<p>
+Is what God promises to bless:
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+These goals are not the same.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And if I am to do my best
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In every line of life,
+</p>
+<p>
+My effort will be surely blest,
+</p>
+<p>
+And I will find in toil sweet rest,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' in a world of strife.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And when before the throne I stand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To answer for the use
+</p>
+<p>
+Of gifts received from God's own hand,
+</p>
+<p>
+He will not then, in wrath, demand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From me some strong excuse,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+To show why I had not attained
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The goal of grand success,
+</p>
+<p>
+Such as some noted men have gained,
+</p>
+<p>
+For if my work is not sin-stained
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+God will my failures bless.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And I will hear Him say, &#34;My son,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A throne thou hast attained;
+</p>
+<p>
+Without applause thy race was run,
+</p>
+<p>
+'Midst failures oft thy work was done,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+Life's highest goal is gained.</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="128">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+JOY IN THE MORNING
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The night of affliction, with its long hours of sadness,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Will soon pass away to be remembered no more;
+</p>
+<p>
+And the weeping will end in a morning of gladness;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For no sorrow is known on the evergreen shore.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In this world we shall have tribulation and sorrow;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Tis enough for the subject to be as his king;
+</p>
+<p>
+But if we are faithful, joy will come with the morrow,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And with the blood-washed a new song shall we sing.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="129">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;HE SHALL DWELL ON HIGH&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="subtitle">
+(Isaiah 33:16)
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Tossed about in strange commotion
+</p>
+<p>
+Like the surface of the ocean
+</p>
+<p>
+When the wind, its waters lashing,
+</p>
+<p>
+Sends great billows, roaring, dashing
+</p>
+<p>
+O'er the breakers, which for ages
+</p>
+<p>
+Have withstood the storms it wages,
+</p>
+<p>
+See those clouds, so like this ocean,
+</p>
+<p>
+How they whirl in strange commotion.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Dust and vapor now are meeting,
+</p>
+<p>
+Each the other wildly greeting;
+</p>
+<p>
+As one hand another grasping,
+</p>
+<p>
+So are these each other clasping;
+</p>
+<p>
+Now they whirl in form fantastic
+</p>
+<p>
+And great trees with boughs elastic
+</p>
+<p>
+With loud moans are lowly bending,
+</p>
+<p>
+Leaves and fruit to earth descending.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Eyes 'most blinded, nerves all shaken,
+</p>
+<p>
+By this fearful storm o'ertaken,
+</p>
+<p>
+As it swept on toward the sunrise;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet, I chanced to lift my dim eyes
+</p>
+<p>
+Upward, when, O sight entrancing,
+</p>
+<p>
+I beheld, to west advancing,
+</p>
+<p>
+Other clouds, in higher current,
+</p>
+<p>
+Unlike earth's, so wild and errant.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Far above the wild commotion,
+</p>
+<p>
+Like great ships on peaceful ocean,
+</p>
+<p>
+Floating westward, grand and steady,
+</p>
+<p>
+Were those clouds, as if made ready,
+</p>
+<p>
+As great cars, with grand pavilions,
+</p>
+<p>
+To convey the ransomed millions
+</p>
+<p>
+From this earth where storms are raging
+</p>
+<p>
+To that land of charms engaging.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Life on earth is a probation;
+</p>
+<p>
+Storms fit well in this relation;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet, above, are peaceful regions,
+</p>
+<p>
+Where ne'er come hell's dreaded legions.
+</p>
+<p>
+Looking toward the things eternal,
+</p>
+<p>
+We may rise to realms supernal,
+</p>
+<p>
+Where earth's dust will not defile us
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor the cunning foe beguile us.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+To this higher plain, O lift me,
+</p>
+<p>
+Gracious Lord! ere Satan sift me,
+</p>
+<p>
+Far above this noisy Babel;
+</p>
+<p>
+Far above earth's clouds, all sable;
+</p>
+<p>
+Up so far no darts can reach me,
+</p>
+<p>
+Where the Holy Ghost will teach me;
+</p>
+<p>
+And, in perfect peace abiding,
+</p>
+<p>
+I will sing while heavenward riding!
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="132">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+BAG YOUR GAME
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Two men, well versed in use of arms,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Set out, 'tis said, in search of game.
+</p>
+<p>
+Each felt that hunting had its charms,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet widely differed they in aim.
+</p>
+<p>
+Both felt their need of wholesome food
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For present use and winter's store;
+</p>
+<p>
+But one was of a careless mood&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Than the day's sport he asked no more.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+No game he bagged from morn till night,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Content to show his master skill
+</p>
+<p>
+In hitting every bird at sight,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And shooting down the deer at will.
+</p>
+<p>
+Grand sport he deemed it, day by day,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As in the tangled forest brake
+</p>
+<p>
+He brought the bounding stag to bay,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or shot the wood-duck in the lake.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As he each night to home returned
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+He sang the pleasure of the chase;
+</p>
+<p>
+But had not yet the lesson learned
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That he was loser in the race.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet, when sat in the winter's cold
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And game had fled to warmer clime,
+</p>
+<p>
+He had no stock to sell for gold,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor food: and past his harvest time.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The chase the other prized as well;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But bagged his game as best he could,
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus had lots of pelts to sell&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For self and wife the choicest food.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the pursuit of game a thrill
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of keenest joy shot through his heart;
+</p>
+<p>
+But joy complete he knew not till
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+He went his way joy to impart.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+While he with wife and children shared
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The roasted duck and venison,
+</p>
+<p>
+He felt he as a king had fared;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And though of earth a denizen,
+</p>
+<p>
+Such food would give both strength and cheer
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To meet lifes daily toil aright,
+</p>
+<p>
+And winter months he did not fear,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+His larder filled, and prospect bright.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The search for Truth with pleasure thrills;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To find it, we our end attain&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Possessed, new joy the spirit fills,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And to retain is highest gain.
+</p>
+<p>
+The pleasure of pursuit is lost
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If truth itself is not secured.
+</p>
+<p>
+O buy the truth at any cost,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And from your aim be not allured!
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="135">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+OTHERS' BURDENS
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My greatest grief is not my own;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That often proves a blessing,
+</p>
+<p>
+For in my grief God's care is shown,
+</p>
+<p>
+And as I am not left alone,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+It never proves distressing;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But when my brother's grief I bear
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The weight then seems excessive;
+</p>
+<p>
+His heavy load I inly share,
+</p>
+<p>
+And loaded down by double care,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+My burden feels oppressive.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Yet I remember Him who bore
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The world's great load of sorrow,
+</p>
+<p>
+And know that He on me will pour
+</p>
+<p>
+The needed grace to bear the more,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To-day and on the morrow.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="136">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MEMORY
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Remembrance of the past will joy impart
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If in that past the conscience was supreme;
+</p>
+<p>
+But if the soul be made an auction mart,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And thoughts and deeds be sold for what you deem
+</p>
+<p>
+The price of virtue, then the called-up past
+</p>
+<p>
+Will be like hooks of steel to hold thee fast.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Or like the stings those nettles left behind
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which I so fondly handled in my play;
+</p>
+<p>
+I deemed the friend who warned me true and kind,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And in great haste I threw the weeds away,
+</p>
+<p>
+But soon the burning flesh reminded me
+</p>
+<p>
+'Twere safer far from all such weeds to flee.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The cloud that flitted o'er the saintly brow
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which now a crown of life so well adorns,
+</p>
+<p>
+When you by ways and means you know not now,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Did what your soul with holy horror scorns,
+</p>
+<p>
+Will stay with you long as you live on earth,
+</p>
+<p>
+And be like gall to spoil your cup of mirth.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The smiles of those we bless are lasting, too;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+We feel their cheering glow each cloudy day.
+</p>
+<p>
+As falls on wilted flower the healing dew,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+So they refresh, and chase our gloom away;
+</p>
+<p>
+We feel though weak we have not lived in vain,
+</p>
+<p>
+And know God smiles tho' we cannot explain.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The footprints on the rock time wears away;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The rock itself soon crumbles into dust;
+</p>
+<p>
+But memories of the past have come to stay,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor flood, nor fire, nor the consuming rust,
+</p>
+<p>
+Can ever from the soul the past erase.
+</p>
+<p>
+Guard thou thy life, O man, with heavenly grace.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="138">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE ROYAL WAY
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Perfection ever is the price of toil.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of marchings long, and hardships by the way,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of burdens borne, oft in the heat of day,
+</p>
+<p>
+'Tis then as right the victor claims the spoil.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The world admires the wreath upon his brow,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But he alone can tell how much it cost,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And how to gain it he had all things lost.
+</p>
+<p>
+Results men see, but not the
+<i>
+when</i>, or
+<i>
+how</i>.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The stately elm which rears its head so high,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And spreads abroad so gracefully its boughs,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Beneath which may repose a herd of cows,
+</p>
+<p>
+Grows under ground as well as toward the sky.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The bridge which spans the swiftly-flowing stream
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+O'er which the iron horse, by night and day,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With heavy tread speeds on its busy way,
+</p>
+<p>
+Rests not on sand, nor slender post and beam.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Below the shifting sand, on solid rock,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The mason safely laid the buttress stone,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And labored long before his work was shown;
+</p>
+<p>
+But he built well&#8212;his work endures each shock.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+This work takes time; we chafe at the delay
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And try to gain the summit at a bound,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But find full soon our hopes dashed to the ground;
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet there remains for all the
+<i>
+royal way</i>.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And he who would true eminence attain
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Must heed the word of Him who came to serve,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor from this path a single moment swerve,
+</p>
+<p>
+If he the great reward would surely gain.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+This is the royal way&#8212;<i>to serve in love</i>&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Servant to servants ever aim to be
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Like Him who gave His life to ransom thee;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then shalt thou sit with Him on throne above.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="140">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+'STABLISHED
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The well-built house with walls of brick, or stone,
+</p>
+<p>
+May tremble some if struck by the cyclone;
+</p>
+<p>
+The most established saint may trials feel,
+</p>
+<p>
+As flint may turn the edge of finest steel.
+</p>
+<p>
+Satanic hosts may rush in like a flood,
+</p>
+<p>
+Allied with foes of our own flesh and blood,
+</p>
+<p>
+The elements of earth and hell combine,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet tho' he trembles, stands in strength divine;
+</p>
+<p>
+He rests secure on the unyielding rock.
+</p>
+<p>
+The top may sway, but base feels not the shock;
+</p>
+<p>
+His heart is fixed, nor earth nor hell can move;
+</p>
+<p>
+They wrench not loose, but his allegiance prove.
+</p>
+<p>
+Christ wept with Mary at her brother's grave;
+</p>
+<p>
+Laid down His life a rebel world to save;
+</p>
+<p>
+Tried, like ourselves, and like us too, infirm,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet knew no sin in either root or germ;
+</p>
+<p>
+Let us be like Him while we sojourn here,
+</p>
+<p>
+Then storms and earthquakes we need never fear.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="141">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+A MEROGNOSTIC
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I know in part, but know not all,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The part I know is known;
+</p>
+<p>
+What know I not I hope with Paul
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To know before the throne.
+</p>
+<p>
+Till then where knowledge fails I trust
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The truth God has revealed,
+</p>
+<p>
+As known by me, forever must
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Be like the truth concealed.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I know God
+<i>
+is</i>, tho' hid from sight,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And know He cares for me;
+</p>
+<p>
+In blessing me He takes delight,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And I by faith can see
+</p>
+<p>
+His skilful hand and loving heart,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In all my life's affairs,
+</p>
+<p>
+And feel content to know but part
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If He knows all my cares.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I know God gave His Son to die
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A sacrifice for man,
+</p>
+<p>
+And live all who on Him rely,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And meet His claims I can,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet I know not how in Him meet
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The human and divine;
+</p>
+<p>
+But God He is, and at His feet
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I fall, and feel Him mine.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Nor do I understand the change
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The spirit wrought in me;
+</p>
+<p>
+A work so great exceeds my range,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But I can feel and see
+</p>
+<p>
+The inward peace, and outward trend,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And hear likewise His voice,
+</p>
+<p>
+The outward with the inward blend,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And answer to my choice.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I know not how mind touches mind
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And thoughts spring into life;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor know the mystic bands which bind,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Like husband to the wife,
+</p>
+<p>
+My loving Lord and my poor soul,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But this I know full well,
+</p>
+<p>
+If I submit to His control
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I cannot sink to hell.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I know the world shakes to its base,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And man still wars with man,
+</p>
+<p>
+The bane of sin rests on our race,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And Satan leads the van;
+</p>
+<p>
+But hope exults within my breast
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho 'darkness shrouds the sky;
+</p>
+<p>
+God is the friend of the oppressed,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The good will never die.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I know not why my plans should fail
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+When I have plan'd for God,
+</p>
+<p>
+And on this ground my foes assail,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But I still kiss the rod,
+</p>
+<p>
+For tho' I cannot tell the why
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+My heart is filled with peace;
+</p>
+<p>
+I can on my dear Lord rely,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And wait for my release.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I know He is both true and kind,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And has my good at heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+His discipline will only bind
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With cords which naught can part,
+</p>
+<p>
+My heart's affections to His throne,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And fit me for my rest,
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor do I tread life's path alone;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+He knows</i>, and I am blest.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="144">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;SALUT AUX BLESSIS&#34;
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A group of mounted officers
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Ride up and fall in line;
+</p>
+<p>
+Their gleaming swords hang at their sides,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Chevrons their arms entwine;
+</p>
+<p>
+They bare their heads as pass along
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A train of wounded men,
+</p>
+<p>
+Their shattered comrades from the field
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They ne'er may meet again.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;<i>Salut aux Blessis!</i>&#34; loud they cry.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The wounded soldiers hear,
+</p>
+<p>
+And for a time forget their pain,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And swell the lusty cheer.
+</p>
+<p>
+Thus should it be in other lines;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The men who lead the van
+</p>
+<p>
+Should e'er accord a brother's cheer
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To every wounded man.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The &#34;rank and file&#34; the wounds receive;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Sometimes the leader, too;
+</p>
+<p>
+But honest wounds none should despise;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The bearer may be true.
+</p>
+<p>
+He stood his ground 'gainst mighty odds,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And dared the shot and shell;
+</p>
+<p>
+So bare your heads, ye scarless ones,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And say, &#34;<i>Thou hast done well!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="146">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+SONNET
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Each human life with mysteries is replete;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They press upon us in its early dawn,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And multiply apace as years roll on,
+</p>
+<p>
+And at each turn we must their problems meet.
+</p>
+<p>
+Reason is blind, and fails their end to see,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Misjudges God and gathers only woe,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And from this spring much turbid waters flow.
+</p>
+<p>
+Only the pure in heart from doubt are free;
+</p>
+<p>
+They read aright the writing on the wall
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which solves the problems of our earthly lot;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To them God draws aside the veil, and shows
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The golden threads with which the garment glows,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And why one dwells in palace, one in cot,
+</p>
+<p>
+And how His love is working good to all.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="147">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+BROTHERHOOD
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Is brotherhood to flesh confined?
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Is there no kinship of the soul?
+</p>
+<p>
+To have it thus, I am resigned,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If 'tis my God-appointed goal;
+</p>
+<p>
+For there are those whom I hold dear,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Who claim with me a common sire,
+</p>
+<p>
+That we, with one accord, revere,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And love holds out midst flood and fire.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But is the family so small
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of which I fondly claim a part?
+</p>
+<p>
+Is there no other I may call
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+A brother, and within my heart
+</p>
+<p>
+Cherish for him, whate'er his name,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or rank, or color, or his creed,
+</p>
+<p>
+A love of pure and changeless flame,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And feel I render but his meed?
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Thank God for brotherhood so broad
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That all the human race may share
+</p>
+<p>
+A kinship, never yet outlawed,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Tho' types of it have been too rare.
+</p>
+<p>
+But bigotry is doomed to die,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And hate, a relic of the past;
+</p>
+<p>
+The golden age is drawing nigh,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And all one family at last!
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="149">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+SHE DEARLY LOVED THE FLOWERS
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I saw her first when she was old,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Her form devoid of grace;
+</p>
+<p>
+Her locks that once were yellow gold
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Were white, and on her face
+</p>
+<p>
+Were furrows deep, which told of pain,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And toil, and worldly fret,
+</p>
+<p>
+Which all, alas, had been in vain,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But nature claimed the debt.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Her eyes were gray and lacked in glow,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Her voice some thought was gruff,
+</p>
+<p>
+And when excited was not slow
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To use a sharp rebuff;
+</p>
+<p>
+For she in speech was free from art;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Men feared her verbal stroke,
+</p>
+<p>
+And yet they said, &#34;She has a heart;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+She never wears a cloak.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Her creed, perhaps, was heterodox,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If creed she ever had.
+</p>
+<p>
+She knew far more of pans and crocks,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But this was not her fad;
+</p>
+<p>
+Her light, I fear, did not shine out
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In pious talk and airs,
+</p>
+<p>
+In fact I entertain a doubt
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If she oft said her prayers.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Her light, if dim, was never hid,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Yet looked not for applause;
+</p>
+<p>
+For kindly deeds she often did,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In line with highest laws.
+</p>
+<p>
+She lacked it may be that rare grace
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which some I know endowers,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet good in her I gladly trace&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+She dearly loved the flowers.</i>
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="151">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MY PANSY PETS
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My pansy pets are sleeping well
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Beneath their quilt of snow;
+</p>
+<p>
+How they can breathe I cannot tell,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor how their rootlets grow;
+</p>
+<p>
+But soon the snow will melt away
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And April showers descend;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then shall appear in colors gay
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Each little pansy friend.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Of pride it may not show a trace;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of lowly mind, alway;
+</p>
+<p>
+But will not blush to show its face
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+All through the lifelong day:
+</p>
+<p>
+Its fragrance other flowers surpass,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In form more stately, too.
+</p>
+<p>
+But when you see my pets in mass,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Thank God they ever grew.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+For though the human face may frown,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or show a heart of guile,
+</p>
+<p>
+My pansy pets as you look down
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Will look at you and smile;
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor will they murmur if you should
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Pluck off their brightest bloom;
+</p>
+<p>
+Their mission is to do us good,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And smile away our gloom.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="153">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+LOVE BETTER THAN KNOWLEDGE
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+O Thou Eternal One, look down
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Upon an erring child of earth;
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy handiwork with knowledge crown,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or life will seem of little worth;
+</p>
+<p>
+By Thine own light illume my way,
+</p>
+<p>
+And turn this darkness into day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I hear a whisper in my heart&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;Than knowledge, better far is love;
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy knowledge here is but in part,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The perfect waits for Thee above:
+</p>
+<p>
+Walk now by faith, and leave to me
+</p>
+<p>
+The things now wrap'd in mystery.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Weighed down with mysteries profound
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I lean upon Thy loving breast;
+</p>
+<p>
+The great unknown still girts me round,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But Thou art mine, and here I rest;
+</p>
+<p>
+Unsolved the mysteries remain;
+</p>
+<p>
+But they no longer give me pain.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My finite mind may never grasp
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The thought of Thy immensity;
+</p>
+<p>
+But I Thy hand more firmly clasp&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To feel Thee near suffices me;
+</p>
+<p>
+For Thou art knowledge, power, and love,
+</p>
+<p>
+The same in earth and heaven above.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="155">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+A SUFFERING GOD
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Man is like God in miniature,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+When he is at his best;
+</p>
+<p>
+His motives and impulses pure,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+His heart and will at rest;
+</p>
+<p>
+No conflict in himself is felt,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+His light no earthly beam,
+</p>
+<p>
+While love encircles like a belt,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And conscience is supreme.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As thus endowed a creature may
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The keenest sufferings feel;
+</p>
+<p>
+Not such as rack the frame of clay,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which art of man may heal;
+</p>
+<p>
+But pain untold at others' woes,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And deadly blight of sin,
+</p>
+<p>
+Which right and virtue overthrows,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And blackens all within.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And may not God have suffered much
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Ere reached the gory cross?
+</p>
+<p>
+Did not our woe the God-heart touch?
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Did He not feel our loss?
+</p>
+<p>
+The &#34;Man of Sorrows&#34; we adore,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And own His sufferings real;
+</p>
+<p>
+But suffered He as God before;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For God can sorrow feel.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="157">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE COPY
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Looking o'er this written page,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Many blurs and blots are seen;
+</p>
+<p>
+Crooked strokes, at every stage&#8212;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Oh, that it again were clean,
+</p>
+<p>
+As at first I found it, when
+</p>
+<p>
+I defiled it with my pen!
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Gladly would I all erase;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But along the lines of blue
+</p>
+<p>
+You could still the failure trace
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In the paper's darkened hue;
+</p>
+<p>
+Though the words could not be seen,
+</p>
+<p>
+You could trace where they had been.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I will try to do my best,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Though my ideal be not gained;
+</p>
+<p>
+On the Master's scrip shall rest
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Eager eyes, till is attained
+</p>
+<p>
+Some resemblance to His hand;
+</p>
+<p>
+If no more I can command.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Like my life, this written sheet,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+So unlike the pattern given;
+</p>
+<p>
+Crooked strokes, I oft repeat;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Oh, that from it could be riven
+</p>
+<p>
+All the blurs and blots of sin;
+</p>
+<p>
+All the self that's found within.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+<i>
+I
+</i>
+can not the past erase.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+<i>
+Christ
+</i>
+shall blot the crooked out,
+</p>
+<p>
+Leaving not the slightest trace
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of my sin, the lines about;
+</p>
+<p>
+And will give me grace to write
+</p>
+<p>
+Pages pleasing in His sight.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I will try to do my best,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As He gives me strength and light,
+</p>
+<p>
+Leaving with Him all the rest;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+He will keep life's pages white;
+</p>
+<p>
+And the copy shall be shown
+</p>
+<p>
+Perfected, before His throne.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="159">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+PERFECT WORK
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+An artist skilled beyond the sons of men
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With pleasure scanned the pictures on the wall,
+</p>
+<p>
+Rare works of art, each one pronounced a gem,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The product of his hand, both great and small;
+</p>
+<p>
+Each filled its place in the designer's plan;
+</p>
+<p>
+Conceived in full before the work began.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Pleased was the artist with results as shown;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But his ideal was not as yet attained;
+</p>
+<p>
+It needed this, as palace needs a throne,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But
+<i>
+throne
+</i>
+a
+<i>
+king</i>&#8212;then is perfection gained,
+</p>
+<p>
+When his great masterpiece hangs in its place,
+</p>
+<p>
+And the great artist looks in his own face.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="160">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE JOHNSTOWN DISASTER, 1889
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Look down, ye Alleghenies, into the Conemaugh vale,
+</p>
+<p>
+And see the rising waters, and hear the bitter wail;
+</p>
+<p>
+The swollen streams now empty their contents in the lake,
+</p>
+<p>
+The waters rise to kiss the skies and walls of granite shake.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Oh, hear that awful booming; the dam has given way!
+</p>
+<p>
+An avalanche of water God's hand alone can stay!
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, leap, ye hills, before it and keep this torrent back,
+</p>
+<p>
+Or devastated towns and homes will mark its onward track!
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Look down, ye Alleghenies, upon this vale of woe;
+</p>
+<p>
+Ten thousand corpses at your base their soulless faces show;
+</p>
+<p>
+Some hid beneath the debris, some covered o'er with slime,
+</p>
+<p>
+Their spirits fled to meet their God, beyond the shores of time.
+</p>
+<p>
+The aged sire and lassie; the careworn mother, too,
+</p>
+<p>
+With her strong son, whom she had hoped would guard life's journey thro',
+</p>
+<p>
+Are lying there together, the old and young alike;
+</p>
+<p>
+Their plans and purposes cut off, no power to love or strike.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Bow down, ye Alleghenies, and weep o'er thousands slain,
+</p>
+<p>
+Who yesterday were all intent this present world to gain.
+</p>
+<p>
+Their active brain is sleeping, their busy hands are still,
+</p>
+<p>
+Bright hopes are blasted in an hour, ambitions cease to thrill;
+</p>
+<p>
+Their mansions, with their bodies, the flood has borne away&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+The rich and poor together rest till resurrection day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Now leap for joy, ye mountains, for all is not in vain!
+</p>
+<p>
+For as it was in Noah's flood, it ever will remain!
+</p>
+<p>
+God cares for those who love Him; He holds them in His hand,
+</p>
+<p>
+And wind and wave obey His will, and rest at His command;
+</p>
+<p>
+Some sank beneath the freshet, and now with others lie,
+</p>
+<p>
+But God prepared another ark to bear their souls on high.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+See, floating with the wreckage, borne onward by the tide,
+</p>
+<p>
+A loving mother with her babe close sheltered at her side;
+</p>
+<p>
+One hand has grasped a rafter, the other guards her child;
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, how she pleads with God and man in accents loud and wild!
+</p>
+<p>
+Men hear but give no answer, no human hand can save;
+</p>
+<p>
+Her voice, alas, is hushed in death by the relentless wave;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But God has heard her pleading, and now His angel bears
+</p>
+<p>
+Their deathless souls to dwell with Him, where free from toils and cares,
+</p>
+<p>
+Her voice rings out in gladness the notes of that blest psalm
+</p>
+<p>
+The prophet heard the elders sing, of &#34;Moses and the Lamb.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And see this lovely maiden, a mother's hope and pride,
+</p>
+<p>
+The sunbeam of a Christian home, and the affianced bride
+</p>
+<p>
+Of one who loved her dearly, and loved her not in vain,
+</p>
+<p>
+For he had won a loyal heart, and hand without a stain;
+</p>
+<p>
+But he lies 'neath the billows, and she will join him soon.
+</p>
+<p>
+Hark! hark! she sings in accents sweet, to old familiar tune!
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+&#34;<i>Jesus, lover of my soul,</i>
+</p>
+<p class="i8">
+<i>
+Let me to Thy bosom fly</i>,&#34; etc.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Her prayer, also, is answered, for see, the roof is bare!
+</p>
+<p>
+The current swept the slippery raft, the maiden is not there!
+</p>
+<p>
+An angel band descended, her lover led the way,
+</p>
+<p>
+And now she joins her loved and lost in realms of endless day!
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Look down, ye Alleghenies, from your colossal heights,
+</p>
+<p>
+And witness an heroic deed, bright gleam 'midst horrid sights.
+</p>
+<p>
+See,
+<i>
+Periton
+</i>
+has mounted his famous large bay steed,
+</p>
+<p>
+And flies, not to the mountains, but at his greatest speed
+</p>
+<p>
+He gallops down the valley, to warn of pending fate,
+</p>
+<p>
+And cries aloud, &#34;Flee for your lives! flee, ere it be too late!
+</p>
+<p>
+The Conemaugh dam is broken, destruction comes apace!
+</p>
+<p>
+Leave all and to the mountains flee; leave all and win the race!&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Each creek becomes a river, each pool a little sea,
+</p>
+<p>
+The tidal wave comes rushing on, men know not where to flee,
+</p>
+<p>
+But on he rides, still shouting, as angels did of old,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;Flee! Flee ye to the mountain! Flee! forsake your homes and gold!&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+His horse now shares his spirit, and leaps each swollen stream.
+</p>
+<p>
+With panting flanks and nostrils wide, and breath like scalding steam,
+</p>
+<p>
+He dashes down the roadway, and fairly seems to fly,
+</p>
+<p>
+Obedient to his rider's rein, resolved to do or die.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Some heed our hero's warning. See, toward the hills they fly!
+</p>
+<p>
+Will
+<i>
+Periton
+</i>
+now turn aside, or like a hero die?
+</p>
+<p>
+Straight on he goes, brave fellow; to turn aside he scorned,
+</p>
+<p>
+His life he deems of little worth if other men be warned.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+We honor those brave soldiers, who scaled the rampart height,
+</p>
+<p>
+To plant the standard of their queen in the defence of right,
+</p>
+<p>
+The fire was hot before them, and bursting shells o'erhead,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet on they pressed, till bullet-pierced they fell&#8212;our honored dead;
+</p>
+<p>
+But he, I hold, was braver, who ran his race alone,
+</p>
+<p>
+No comrade's cheer to urge him on, no bugle blast was blown,
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor grand review to follow if he should win the day;
+</p>
+<p>
+But thoughts of self were all too weak his onward course to stay.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Spur up your steed, brave fellow&#8212;the flood is at his heels!
+</p>
+<p>
+Too late! the waves now gird him round; the gallant rider reels;
+</p>
+<p>
+Entombed beneath the debris his warning voice is stilled,
+</p>
+<p>
+But he, I trust, ran not in vain; his mission is fulfilled.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Like Jesus, he saved others, yet
+<i>
+would
+</i>
+not save himself;
+</p>
+<p>
+The plaudits of the world sought not, but scorned its praise and pelf.
+</p>
+<p>
+He still sat in the saddle, and held the guiding rein,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet wind and wave awoke him not, and thunders roared in vain.
+</p>
+<p>
+His spirit had ascended, death set the hero free,
+</p>
+<p>
+And God shall say in His great day, &#34;<i>Thou didst it unto Me!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Look down, ye Alleghenies, with ever-darkening frown,
+</p>
+<p>
+Upon the selfishness which caused the ruin of Johnstown.
+</p>
+<p>
+A reservoir was fashioned, of full three miles in length,
+</p>
+<p>
+An inland lake, kept back by dam of insufficient strength;
+</p>
+<p>
+No mills were driven by it; no water-works supplied;
+</p>
+<p>
+A few rich men, for selfish sport, claimed all these waters wide.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+They rode upon its surface in skiff, and bark canoe,
+</p>
+<p>
+Shot grouse and duck, caught fish and eel, and held their title true;
+</p>
+<p>
+For other people's safety took not a single thought&#8212;
+</p>
+<p>
+Ten thousand lives were less to them than fish thus daily caught.
+</p>
+<p>
+The dam revealed its weakness by frequent leaks, but they
+</p>
+<p>
+Turned not aside to strengthen it till came the fateful day;
+</p>
+<p>
+But God, who rules the nations, to whom all bow the knee,
+</p>
+<p>
+Will say to them on judgment day, &#34;<i>Ye did it not to Me.</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="169">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+EYE HATH NOT SEEN
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Somewhere in the realms supernal
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Is a home prepared for me,
+</p>
+<p>
+Where my joys shall be eternal,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And my spirit ever free;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Mortal vision helps not here,
+</p>
+<p>
+God conceals it from my sight,
+</p>
+<p>
+By effulgent beams of light;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Oh that He would bring it near!
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But I hear a voice say, softly,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+&#34;Be content to leave it so,
+</p>
+<p>
+For God's thoughts are far too lofty
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For a man like thee to know;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Human spirits must be free
+</p>
+<p>
+From their tenements of clay,
+</p>
+<p>
+Ere they bear that full-orbed day,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Bide thy time and thou shalt see.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I cannot draw back the curtain
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That conceals the glory land,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet my hope is sure and certain,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For the tracings of God's hand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+On the outside do appear,
+</p>
+<p>
+Like the cherubim of old,
+</p>
+<p>
+Wrought in needle-work and gold,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Bringing all the glory near.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+He who made the lovely flowers
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which adorn both shrub and tree,
+</p>
+<p>
+Climbing vine, and shady bowers,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In this beauty speaks to me:
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Tis the curtain of His tent,
+</p>
+<p>
+Hiding much, yet much reveals,
+</p>
+<p>
+Type of the Elysian fields;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Glory streams thro' woof and rent.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="171">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+WHAT LASTS?
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The words we speak on the empty air,
+</p>
+<p>
+Are never lost, but recorded there;
+</p>
+<p>
+The process we may not comprehend,
+</p>
+<p>
+Nor how the words with the air may blend,
+</p>
+<p>
+But science shows what results may be;
+</p>
+<p>
+Accept the fact, is enough for me.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The waves of sound may have died away
+</p>
+<p>
+As ripples faint on a sheltered bay;
+</p>
+<p>
+But though now faint will be heard again,
+</p>
+<p>
+By God, ourselves, and the sons of men.
+</p>
+<p>
+As sound e'en now may be multiplied;
+</p>
+<p>
+The faintest moan like the roaring tide;
+</p>
+<p>
+The housefly's tread with its tiny feet
+</p>
+<p>
+Like tramp of horse on the stone-paved street.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+So, though now faint, will those voices be,
+</p>
+<p>
+When Christ shall come in His majesty;
+</p>
+<p>
+Our quicken'd sense will the echo hear,
+</p>
+<p>
+Like blast of horn to the timid deer.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In pleasant tones will the echoes be,
+</p>
+<p>
+Of words of love and of happy glee,
+</p>
+<p>
+Which we address to the friends we love,
+</p>
+<p>
+Or offer up to our Lord above.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But, unlike those, all the echoes heard,
+</p>
+<p>
+Of angry tones, and each sword-like word;
+</p>
+<p>
+As we here mete to our fellow men,
+</p>
+<p>
+The Judge shall mete in full measure then.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The thoughts we think may be lasting, too,
+</p>
+<p>
+Though not inscribed on the azure blue;
+</p>
+<p>
+On the tissued walls of the soul's great dome,
+</p>
+<p>
+May be found those thoughts ne'er more to roam.
+</p>
+<p>
+And like our thoughts, may we not become
+</p>
+<p>
+The thought we think, be ourselves the sum?
+</p>
+<p>
+May thoughts of God on my heart be graved,
+</p>
+<p>
+And I be known as a
+<i>
+sinner saved</i>.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="173">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+IS THERE A BRIGHTER WORLD?
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Beneath the surface of a shallow lake,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Where grasses rank and mammoth rushes grow,
+</p>
+<p>
+And playful fish their bright fins nimbly shake,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Or madly chase each other to and fro,
+</p>
+<p>
+The larva of the dragon-fly submerged,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In family large, had taken their abode,
+</p>
+<p>
+And tho' the waves around them daily surged,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Upon the bending grass they safely rode.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Content were they with life as there enjoyed;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To brighter world they never had aspired,
+</p>
+<p>
+Had they not felt unfilled an aching void,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And heard a whisper of a life attired
+</p>
+<p>
+In sapphire robes, 'midst gleams of golden light,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Above their present world, so dank and chill,
+</p>
+<p>
+Where all day long they wing their happy flight
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From roses sweet to lovely daffodil.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+But some essayed to doubt if it were so.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Who ever had returned to make it known?
+</p>
+<p>
+One volunteered that he would upward go,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To bring report; but he was not full grown,
+</p>
+<p>
+And fainted when he reached the surface air,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And falling, round a reed his form he curled,
+</p>
+<p>
+Then cried, &#34;Delusion! I have been up there.
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And could not find a trace of brighter world.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Yet others could not still the voice within,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor disregard tradition's hopeful tale.
+</p>
+<p>
+They called a council; but it caused some din,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And all their efforts seemed at first to fail,
+</p>
+<p>
+Till one wise head suggested this compact,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Expressed, no doubt, in dragon larva lore;
+</p>
+<p>
+That if that brighter life were actual fact,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And all who rose in golden sunshine soar,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Each must return to tell the joyful tale,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And o'er the waters shake his sapphire wings,
+</p>
+<p>
+So all may see, and their bright comrade hail,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And talk about the tidings which he brings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now each returns, clad in his bright array;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Skims o'er the grassy lake with gauze-like wings,
+</p>
+<p>
+Attracts their notice by his plumage gay,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And they collect to hear the news he brings.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Then, holding fast, he buzzes out his song,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And seeks to woo them to a brighter world.
+</p>
+<p>
+And he succeeds; for see, the larva strong
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Climb up the grass, and soon in light enfurled,
+</p>
+<p>
+They wait the growth of wings, then burst their shells,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Shake loose the gauzy folds, and soar away;
+</p>
+<p>
+But soon come back again their joy to tell,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And help their brothers to a brighter day.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Perhaps our loved ones do not always stay
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+In far-off heaven, and leave their comrades lone;
+</p>
+<p>
+Tho' yet unseen, may hover round our way,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And see our toil, and hear our daily moan;
+</p>
+<p>
+And tho' we cannot see their lovely forms,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor hear full well the whispers of their voice,
+</p>
+<p>
+May shield us oft in life's tempestuous storms,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And when we victories gain, with us rejoice.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+They whisper
+<i>
+thoughts</i>, perhaps, if not word sounds,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And help to waken longings for our rest;
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus allure our hearts beyond earth's bounds
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To joy and home, upon our Saviour's breast.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+O may I heed the whispers which they bring,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And seek the grace which will my heart prepare
+</p>
+<p>
+To climb from earth and take on angel wing,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Then soar aloft, to find my home up
+<i>
+there</i>!
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="176">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As the caged eagle neared the mountain range,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+O'er which he oft had soared on pinions strong,
+</p>
+<p>
+He clapped his wings, moved by some impulse strange,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And then fell dead his prison floor along.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+So Moses stood on Pisgah's heights alone,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With sight undimmed, and unabated strength;
+</p>
+<p>
+He gazed with rapture on the vision shown,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of the fair land in all its breadth and length;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+He saw the vale of Eschol clad with vine,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Mount Libbanus adorned with lordly trees,
+</p>
+<p>
+Gilead and Achor, with their lowing kine,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And verdant Sharon swept by the sea breeze;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+He saw the spot where Jacob's ladder stood,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The oaks at Mamre where their father prayed,
+</p>
+<p>
+Saw Bashan with its pastures and its wood,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And the rude cave where Abram Sarah laid.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Saw the whole land&#8212;its hills and vales and streams,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Its lakes and pools, its vineyards and its groves,
+</p>
+<p>
+A wealth and glory far beyond his dreams;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Better, it seemed, than all earth's treasure troves.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+God then revealed a glimpse of His own face,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which Moses once desired, but God withheld,
+</p>
+<p>
+But finished now the God-ordained race,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The battle fought, and every passion quelled.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+As he beholds the glory of his Lord,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And looks within the pearly gates ajar,
+</p>
+<p>
+Snaps, in an instant, life's frail brittle cord,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And he is where the holy angels are.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+So is it, likewise, with most dying saints;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+They see e'en here the beatific sight;
+</p>
+<p>
+The spirit then breaks thro' this world's restraints,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And enters into heaven's effulgent light.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Not sorrow snaps the silver cord, but joy;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Not woe, but bliss, expands the golden bowl.
+</p>
+<p>
+The pitcher breaks when free from earth's alloy,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And fails the wheel when heaven has filled the soul.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="178">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+THE END WE SOUGHT
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The end we sought is not attained,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+But wisdom has been won,
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus a higher goal is gained.
+</p>
+<p>
+<i>
+That
+</i>
+like the moon has sadly waned,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+While
+<i>
+this
+</i>
+shines as the sun.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+A shorter route to India's strand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Columbus failed to find.
+</p>
+<p>
+That was an object truly grand,
+</p>
+<p>
+But in the wealth of this fair land
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Grandeur and good combine.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="179">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+ASPIRATION
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I stand to-day on higher ground
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Than ever reached before,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet from this summit I have found,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Outlined full many more,
+</p>
+<p>
+Which seem to pierce the vaulted sky,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And prove my effort vain
+</p>
+<p>
+But God will set my feet on high,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Thro' grace I shall attain.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Yet higher still my ideal stands,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Its peak but dimly seen,
+</p>
+<p>
+But hope impels, and love commands,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And faith discerns its sheen;
+</p>
+<p>
+And when I reach its shining height
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Heaven's gate will open wide;
+</p>
+<p>
+I'll see the beatific sight,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And rest at Jesus' side.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="180">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MY REST
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I would not cherish a wish or thought
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Displeasing, Lord, to Thee;
+</p>
+<p>
+Thy will is good, and with wisdom fraught,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And that suffices me.
+</p>
+<p>
+I cannot alter a plan of Thine,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And would not if I could;
+</p>
+<p>
+I acquiesce in the will divine,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And find my highest good.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+At times my vessel drifts near the shore,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And the beacon lights expire,
+</p>
+<p>
+The surf-capped waves swell more and more,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And threaten with ruin dire;
+</p>
+<p>
+But only the surface sea is rough;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The ocean's depths are calm,
+</p>
+<p>
+And a star affords me light enough,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The Star of Bethlehem.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And by its light I discern the sand
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And rocks along the coast,
+</p>
+<p>
+And turn away toward a fairer land,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And standing at my post,
+</p>
+<p>
+I guide my bark thro' the tempest wild,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Borne on by wind and tide,
+</p>
+<p>
+Till God receives His weak, erring child,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And shelters near His side.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+&#34;Lo, I come, O Lord, to do Thy will!&#34;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Shines from my star divine,
+</p>
+<p>
+And my heart cries out, &#34;In me fulfill
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Also, Thy wise design.&#34;
+</p>
+<p>
+I would not alter a plan of thine
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If I the power possessed;
+</p>
+<p>
+My will is lost in the will divine,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Tis here I find my rest.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="182">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;PAINT ME AS I AM, WARTS AND ALL&#34;&#8212;<i>Cromwell</i>.
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Brave soul, 'twere well if all the same would say,
+</p>
+<p>
+And artists aim their patron's wish t'obey.
+</p>
+<p>
+What signifies a wart, or e'en a scar?
+</p>
+<p>
+Leave both, skilled hand, and paint us as we are.
+</p>
+<p>
+The crowfeet paint, the wrinkles on the brow,
+</p>
+<p>
+The hollow cheek, the form inclined to bow,
+</p>
+<p>
+The tear-dim'd eye, the hair well streaked with gray,
+</p>
+<p>
+The hardened hand, begrim'd with soot and clay,
+</p>
+<p>
+And if you use the seer's revealing glass,
+</p>
+<p>
+Remember this, &#34;<i>All flesh is as the grass</i>.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="183">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+&#34;I WAS THERE&#34;
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+When the French soldier from the field returned,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Begrimed with smoke and blood, he felt content,
+</p>
+<p>
+As from Napoleon he this fact had learned,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+That thro' his marshall, medals would be sent,
+</p>
+<p>
+The name of battlefield each one would bear,
+</p>
+<p>
+And, also, in large letters, &#34;<i>I was there</i>.&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In others' triumphs we may well rejoice,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If in their triumphs good to us redounds;
+</p>
+<p>
+But in the glory we can have no choice,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And our rejoicings are but empty sounds.
+</p>
+<p>
+If you would in the victor's glory share,
+</p>
+<p>
+Be then prepared to add this, &#34;<i>I was there!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The victor's joy belongs to him alone;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+He stood his ground 'midst storms of shot and shell;
+</p>
+<p>
+Thro' his brave stand the foe has been o'erthrown,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And he alone the victor's tale can tell.
+</p>
+<p>
+He now lies down to die 'neath glory's glare,
+</p>
+<p>
+For he can say to others, &#34;<i>I was there!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Not in some neutral nook must we remain;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The battle rages, we must share the strife;
+</p>
+<p>
+The world, once lost, we must for Christ regain,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And each lay hold upon eternal life.
+</p>
+<p>
+Who share His conflicts will His glory share;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then looking down to earth say, &#34;<i>I was there!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Those who before the throne are robed in white,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Passed thro' the conflict and the foe o'ercame;
+</p>
+<p>
+Boldly they stood as champions for the right,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And thus have won thro' grace enduring fame,
+</p>
+<p>
+And when the roll is called, each will declare,
+</p>
+<p>
+&#34;<i>Here am I, Lord, I fought for Thee down there!</i>&#34;
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="185">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+TRUE LOVE
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+He loves not much who loves not honor more;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If men lack this then love must lack as well;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+If this possessed no tongue love's depths can tell;
+</p>
+<p>
+The heart an ocean filled from shore to shore.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Seeing in him the possibility
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Of likeness to the great and Blessed One;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+It may be even now in him begun.
+</p>
+<p>
+I love him much for what I hope to be,
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And show my love by yielding him his due;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+For sentimental love is ever vain,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+It cannot peace, much less heaven's favor gain;
+</p>
+<p>
+But those who love in deed are blessed and true.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="186">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+A TRUE MAN
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+With purpose strong to do or die,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+The race of life he ran,
+</p>
+<p>
+With love supreme to God on high,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And equal love to man.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Some flaws the earthen vessel marred,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Which all could clearly see;
+</p>
+<p>
+Within was found the precious nard;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From guile his heart was free.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+In motive e'er is found the sin;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Let that to God be true,
+</p>
+<p>
+And he the Judge's smile will win,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And man's approval too.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<a name="187">
+&nbsp;
+</a>
+<p class="title">
+MY OLD SWEETHEART
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+My old sweetheart is away to-day;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I feel as I did of old,
+</p>
+<p>
+In my courting days, when far away
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I yearned for her more than gold.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+I thought of her handsome, smiling face,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Her noble and cultured brow,
+</p>
+<p>
+Of her gentle ways, and charming grace;
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+I missed her less then than now.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Through the long years of our wedded life,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Now nearly a full two score,
+</p>
+<p>
+She has proved herself a loving wife,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And a sweetheart evermore.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Our love has grown with the flight of time,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+As the mountain stream may grow;
+</p>
+<p>
+Or as a tree in a genial clime
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+When free from the frost and snow.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+The tempest may madly rage without,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+We have lasting peace within;
+</p>
+<p>
+And confidence ne'er gives place to doubt,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Nor concord to noisy din.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+She will soon return again to me,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+From her visit in the West,
+</p>
+<p>
+And the dear face that I long to see
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Will be nestling on my breast.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And I will feel as in olden time,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+With a love not dreamed of then;
+</p>
+<p>
+No happier man in any clime
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Is known to the sons of men.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+And when we part at the silent tomb,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+'Twill be but a passing day
+</p>
+<p>
+Before we meet where there is no gloom,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And sweethearts forever stay.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i12">
+*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Full forty-six years of wedded life,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+Enjoyed with my sweetheart here;
+</p>
+<p>
+They were happy years, devoid of strife,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And full of Christian cheer;
+</p>
+<p>
+Then her Master called her spirit home,
+</p>
+<p>
+And I am left to walk alone.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>
+Ere long my journey, too, will end,
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+And my spirit to God arise;
+</p>
+<p>
+Perhaps he may my sweetheart send
+</p>
+<p class="i2">
+To escort me to the skies;
+</p>
+<p>
+And there with our Saviour we shall be,
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet sweethearts still through eternity.
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Gleams of Sunshine, by Joseph Horatio Chant
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Gleams of Sunshine
+ Optimistic Poems
+
+
+Author: Joseph Horatio Chant
+
+
+
+Release Date: February 13, 2008 [eBook #24605]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLEAMS OF SUNSHINE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Charles Bidwell, Beth Trapaga, and the
+Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(http://www.pgdpcanada.net)
+
+
+
+GLEAMS OF SUNSHINE
+
+Optimistic Poems
+
+by
+
+JOSEPH HORATIO CHANT
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Rev. J. H. Chant]
+
+
+
+Printed for the Author by
+William Briggs
+Toronto
+1915
+
+Copyright, Canada, 1915
+by J. H. Chant.
+
+
+
+
+
+ _TO
+ The memory of my beloved wife,
+ MARY MATILDA McKIM
+ Who, by her gentle disposition,
+ cheerful spirit,
+sound judgment, and earnest Christian life,
+ not only proved herself my true
+ helpmate for over 46 years,
+ but, also,
+ made our home a place of constant
+ peace and abounding joy,
+ I dedicate this book._
+
+ J. H. C.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ PAGE
+
+INVOCATION 7
+
+FATHER OF UNIVERSAL MAN 9
+
+GOD'S PLAN IS BEST 12
+
+CANADA 14
+
+LATE AUTUMN 18
+
+FRIENDSHIP 19
+
+LIFE 22
+
+TO MR. RUDYARD KIPLING 23
+
+MEN BELOW DECK 26
+
+"OTHERS SAVE WITH FEAR" 28
+
+TREAD SOFTLY 31
+
+"IT WAS MY FAULT" 34
+
+KEPT THE FLAG FLOATING 35
+
+MARY 37
+
+A WORLD REDEEMED 38
+
+ALASKAN BOUNDARY SETTLEMENT 40
+
+MY PRIMROSE 42
+
+NIAGARA'S RAINBOW 44
+
+MY SISTER NELL AND I 46
+
+GATHER THE WAYSIDE FLOWERS 48
+
+HIDE THEIR SCARS 50
+
+"ASHAMED BUT NOT AFRAID" 52
+
+DUNBAR 54
+
+MARSTON MOOR 59
+
+OIL THE CRICKET 62
+
+THE REAL 63
+
+VICTORY GAINED AND LIFE LOST 65
+
+THE BAPTISM OF CLOVIS 66
+
+THE WATER LILY 70
+
+"HE SHALL WIPE AWAY EVERY TEAR" 72
+
+THE TAJ OF AGRA 73
+
+ENGLAND'S BRAVE SONS 78
+
+QUEEN VICTORIA 80
+
+SILVER TONES 83
+
+GOD'S ORDER 86
+
+INFLUENCE 88
+
+UNDECAYING FRUIT 90
+
+THE HEROES OF OUR DAY 92
+
+THE BIG BEAR CREEK 94
+
+THE FROST ON THE WINDOW 96
+
+"WILT THOU HARASS A DRIVEN LEAF?" 98
+
+A GEM 100
+
+THE CLOUDS 101
+
+THE MOSSES 103
+
+THE GRANDEST THEME 105
+
+SEPTEMBER 107
+
+THE FLOWERS 111
+
+THE BUD 113
+
+BEAUTIFUL SKY 115
+
+BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES 116
+
+THE MOSS ROSE 118
+
+GOD'S CARE 120
+
+MY LOT 121
+
+GOD'S FOOT ON THE CRADLE 122
+
+GOD'S GIFTS TO BE ENJOYED 124
+
+THE HIGHEST GOAL 126
+
+JOY IN THE MORNING 128
+
+"HE SHALL DWELL ON HIGH" 129
+
+BAG YOUR GAME 132
+
+OTHERS' BURDENS 135
+
+MEMORY 136
+
+THE ROYAL WAY 138
+
+'STABLISHED 140
+
+A MEROGNOSTIC 141
+
+"SALUT AUX BLESSIS" 144
+
+SONNET 146
+
+BROTHERHOOD 147
+
+SHE DEARLY LOVED THE FLOWERS 149
+
+MY PANSY PETS 151
+
+LOVE BETTER THAN KNOWLEDGE 153
+
+A SUFFERING GOD 155
+
+THE COPY 157
+
+PERFECT WORK 159
+
+THE JOHNSTOWN DISASTER 160
+
+EYE HATH NOT SEEN 169
+
+WHAT LASTS? 171
+
+IS THERE A BRIGHTER WORLD? 173
+
+A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN 176
+
+THE END WE SOUGHT 178
+
+ASPIRATION 179
+
+MY REST 180
+
+"PAINT ME AS I AM, WARTS AND ALL" 182
+
+"I WAS THERE" 183
+
+TRUE LOVE 185
+
+A TRUE MAN 186
+
+MY OLD SWEETHEART 187
+
+
+
+
+Gleams of Sunshine
+
+
+
+
+INVOCATION
+
+
+_O Thou, who art the source of joy and light,
+ The great Revealer of the will Divine;
+Thyself Divine, all nature owns Thy might,
+ And bows in homage at a beck of Thine,
+Afford me light to guide my unskilled hand,
+And by Thy Spirit all my thoughts command.
+
+To Thy great name I dedicate my powers,
+ Yielding to Thee what Thou with blood hast bought,
+Resolved that Thou shalt have my days and hours,
+ And for Thy sake shall every work be wrought;
+O deign to use me, if it be Thy will,
+And my poor heart with love and gladness fill.
+
+If this strange impulse which I feel within
+ To write this book proceeds, O Lord, from Thee,
+Let it not die, nor be defiled by sin,
+ But let the work from self and sin be free,
+And prove a guide to home and bliss above,
+And help to fill this warring world with love.
+
+The Master's touch I know it sadly lacks,
+ And may not please the nice artistic taste
+Of some fine mind that naught but gold attracts;
+ Some may not count these iron-filings waste;
+Like magnets, to which gold will not adhere,
+May they find ore in this to bless and cheer.
+
+In this plain pitcher, Lord, Thy blessing pour,
+ That from it men their raging thirst may slake,
+And when exhausted is the scanty store,
+ Then let the earthen vessel quickly break;
+Its end is gained if Thou art glorified,
+And men have learned to love the Christ who died.
+
+As flowers drink in the solar rays and dew,
+ And in return give bloom and odors sweet,
+So would I to Thy Spirit's touch prove true,
+ And render that return which seemeth meet;
+Come, dews of grace! Great Sun, illume my heart!
+That I to some sad soul may joy impart._
+
+
+
+
+
+FATHER OF UNIVERSAL MAN
+
+
+Father of Universal Man,
+ Where'er in this wide world he roam,
+Not known to thee by kith or clan,
+ Nor height, nor breadth of mental dome,
+Nor babbling tongue, nor sounding creed,
+But by his woe and common need.
+
+The pushing Anglo-Saxon race,
+ The Celts with wealth of heart and mind,
+The Esquimaux of leaden face,
+ The Arabs whom no chain can bind,
+With hardy Boers and all the rest,
+Are with one common Father blest.
+
+And all are brothers, though at times
+ Our flashing swords obscure the sun.
+We ring aloud our Christmas chimes,
+ But louder sounds the booming gun,
+And brother is by brother slain,
+And kindred ties are rent in twain.
+
+Yet Thou art true whate'er betide;
+ Thy heart o'er human woe doth melt;
+For men of every race Christ died,
+ And, as a zone, Thy love would belt
+All human kind from pole to pole
+Into one grand, harmonious whole.
+
+Men war with men in every clime,
+ Commotions rock this earthly ball;
+Our souls are covered o'er with grime--
+ Sad fruits of our Adamic fall,
+But grace shall triumph in the end,
+And good the evil far transcend.
+
+Thy throne remains forever firm,
+ And here, amidst the strife of men,
+We find with joy a heavenly germ
+ Which shall re-stock this world again
+With fruitful plants of righteousness,
+If Thou, O God, but deign to bless.
+
+Help us that we may not deny
+ Our brotherhood in hour of strife;
+When swords shall from their scabbards fly,
+ And great the sacrifice of life,
+May we in pity o'er them bend,
+And help to wounded foe extend.
+
+If we are working out Thy plan,
+ Give our brave soldiers arms of steel,
+And may each prove himself a man--
+ To God and to his nation leal,
+And never falter in the fight,
+But die, if need be, for the right.
+
+May right prevail in this dread war,
+ Though we be humbled in the dust;
+To fail our end is better far
+ Then gain it, if it be unjust,
+But if our aims with Thine agree--
+We trust--and leave results with Thee.
+
+The world moves on; let none essay
+ To block it in its onward course,
+Lest they like chaff be swept away
+ As by a supernatural force;
+For laggards progress does not wait--
+Keep pace with time or bide your fate.
+
+May our brave foes rise in defeat
+ To higher form of liberty;
+And Freedom's flag, as seemeth meet,
+ Wave over all from sea to sea;
+Pushed on as by the hand of fate
+To nationhood, both firm and great.
+
+
+
+
+GOD'S PLAN IS BEST
+
+
+Thy plan is best, though it may not agree
+ With my conceptions of my needs and rights,
+ And faith may fail to scale its azure heights;
+Yet still I trust, and leave my cause with Thee.
+
+With single eye I sought to do Thy will.
+ I felt Thy smile and left results with Thee;
+ If they have failed, then that is naught to me--
+I did my part, and am Thy servant still.
+
+The hearts of men are in Thy mighty hand;
+ Naught is concealed from Thy all-searching sight;
+ Canst Thou not turn them to the left or right?
+The raging ocean calms at Thy command.
+
+The aching clay may circumscribe my sphere;
+ Yet in confinement I may labor still
+ In work which harmonizes with Thy will,
+And e'er rejoice to have my Master near.
+
+Thoughts of Thy love will yet remain with me,
+ And in my silent hours may shape assume,
+ And by their measures help to lift the gloom
+Of this dark world, and bring men nearer Thee.
+
+Whate'er may come, I will not, Lord, complain;
+ My plan is Thine, I have no other choice.
+ In work or rest 'tis meet I should rejoice;
+Contentment in my lot is blessed gain.
+
+
+
+
+CANADA
+
+
+Dear Canada, our native land,
+ Our love for thee grows day by day;
+Our fathers left the olden strand,
+ O'er sea and rapids made their way,
+And by their energy and skill
+ They laid thy firm foundation deep,
+And sowed the seed o'er vale and hill
+ Which we, their sons, are called to reap.
+
+The wilderness blooms as the rose;
+ The old-time hardships are unknown;
+And wealth in streams of commerce flows
+ From sea to sea--a nation grown--
+Still youthful, but with thews of steel
+ To throttle foes that may arise;
+Yet loving touch sore hearts to heal,
+ And lift us nearer to the skies.
+
+We cannot boast as blue a sky
+ As smiles o'er many an Alpine plain,
+Nor are our mountain peaks as high
+ As theirs, yet we have other gain;
+Our hills are rich in yellow gold,
+ Our plains are broad and fertile too;
+Our lakes and streams hold wealth untold,
+ And grander forests never grew.
+
+Our sky is bright to healthy eyes;
+ Pure ozone lades the air we breathe;
+Our climate we have learned to prize;
+ Nor do we o'er our winters grieve;
+For nature throws her ermine robe
+ O'er purple hills and vales as well;
+No portion of this earthly globe
+ As gay as this, with sleigh and bell.
+
+But soon the winter wears away,
+ And plants long sheltered now are seen,
+And April showers and smiling May
+ Soon clothe the earth in living green.
+Monotony is thus unknown--
+ Each season is a glad surprise,
+In which God's truth and love are shown,
+ And hope within us never dies.
+
+Our sons, inured to noble toil,
+ Grow strong in arm and broad in mind;
+Some stay at home to till the soil,
+ Others in various callings find
+Their missions--but where'er their place
+ In the great drama of our day,
+They, as a class, win in the race,
+ And the behests of Heaven obey.
+
+The gold of monarchy have we,
+ Without the useless silt and dross;
+And like our cousins, all are free,
+ Yet we have no election boss.
+No union here of Church and State,
+ Yet Church and State full well agree
+That nations never can be great
+ If they refuse to bow the knee.
+
+We make the nation's weal or woe,
+ As one may shape his future life.
+"God's mill," 'tis said, "grinds fine, tho' slow,"
+ A fact lost sight of in the strife
+For place and power in Church and State,
+ And think God cares not what we do;
+But to our doubt he whispers "wait,"
+ And time proves Him both just and true.
+
+From England and from sunny France
+ Our fathers came, long years ago;
+On Abraham's plain with sword and lance
+ They fought as foes--gave blow for blow.
+The victors and the conquered now
+ Recall that day with mutual pride;
+To their grand destiny all bow,
+ And as true peers, stand side by side.
+
+So give me Canada before
+ The fairest land beneath the sky.
+We stretch our arms from shore to shore
+ And all are free, both low and high;
+An infant nation yet, 'tis true,
+ But strong in muscle and in nerve,
+We hold our own, give all their due,
+ And God's great purpose humbly serve.
+
+
+
+
+LATE AUTUMN
+
+
+The fields lie bare before me now,
+ The fruit is gathered in,
+Not even seen a grazing cow,
+ Nor heard the blackbird's din.
+The heath is brown, and ivy pale,
+ The woodbine berries red,
+And withered leaves borne on the gale
+ Sink down on peaty bed.
+
+At morn the fence was covered o'er
+ With a pale sheet of rime;
+The earth was like a marble floor,
+ But now is turned to grime.
+For Autumn rains are falling fast,
+ And swells the running brook;
+The Indian Summer, too, is past;
+ For snowfall soon we look.
+
+
+
+
+FRIENDSHIP
+
+
+When presses hard my load of care,
+ And other friends from me depart,
+I want a friend my grief to share,
+ With faithful speech and loving heart.
+
+I want a friend of noble mind,
+ Who loves me more than praise or pelf,
+Reproves my faults with spirit kind,
+ And thinks of me as well as self--
+
+A friend whose ear is ever closed
+ Against traducers' poison breath;
+And, though in me be not disclosed
+ An equal love, yet loves till death--
+
+A friend who knows my weakness well,
+ And ever seeks to calm my fears;
+If words should fail the storm to quell,
+ Will soothe my fevered heart with tears--
+
+A friend not moved by jealousy
+ Should I outrun him in life's race;
+And though I doubt, still trusts in me
+ With loyal heart and cloudless face.
+
+True friendship knows both joy and grief,
+ The sweetest pleasure, keenest pain;
+Its sharpest pangs are ever brief,
+ Mere flitting clouds before the rain.
+
+But soon the joy returns again
+ With bluer sky and brighter light;
+The grief proves but a narrow glen
+ All full of flowers, though hid from sight.
+
+And e'en in darkness we inhale
+ The fragrant odors love emits;
+Friendship like this can never fail--
+ On love's strong throne its monarch sits.
+
+True friendship is of greater worth
+ Than words, though they were solid gold.
+To all the glittering gems of earth
+ I it prefer, a thousandfold.
+
+One Friend I have who knows my heart,
+ And loves me with a changeless love;
+I love Him, too--nor death can part
+ Us two, for we will love above.
+
+A woman's love to His is faint;
+ No brother cleaves as close as He;
+No seraph words could ever paint
+ The love this Friend now bears to me.
+
+
+
+
+LIFE
+
+
+Our lives seem filled with things of little worth;
+ A thousand petty cares arise each day
+Which bring our soaring thoughts from heaven to earth,
+ Reminding us that we have feet of clay;
+ Yet we will not from path of duty stray
+If we amidst them all cleave to the right;
+Nor great nor small are actions in His sight;
+ Through lowly vale He shows our feet the way.
+
+Our early dreams may not be realized;
+ The roseate sky now proves quite commonplace;
+The constellations we so highly prized
+ Have vanished all--nor left the slightest trace
+ Of former glory in its azure face,
+But high o'er all beams out the polar star
+To guide us safe through rock and sandy bar;
+ Life is complete and its cap-stone is grace.
+
+
+
+
+TO MR. RUDYARD KIPLING[1]
+
+
+True laureate of the Anglo-Saxon race,
+ Whose words have won the hearts of young and old;
+So free from cant, and yet replete with grace,
+ Or prose or verse it glows like burnished gold;
+Thy muse is ever loyal to the truth,
+And those who know thee best forget thy youth.
+
+Unbend thy bow and rest with us awhile;
+ Thy active mind requires a healthy brain;
+Death's shadow has gone back upon the dial,
+ And thou art left a higher goal to gain;
+The future will eclipse the brilliant past;
+Fear not; thy ideal will be reached at last.
+
+To do the grandest work one must needs be
+ Endowed by Nature for the master task;
+Yea more, he must possess the light to see
+ Those mysteries which nature seems to mask,
+And this can gain but in the royal way--
+'Tis dread experience leads from gloom to-day.
+
+The Master saw a struggling youth, and smiled,
+ Pleased with his work in main; but, knowing too
+His latent power, if it could be beguiled
+ From hiding-place, much greater work would do,
+He took His servant's hand and led the way
+Through vale of sorrow up to brighter day.
+
+By other path this height is ne'er attained,
+ Nor books nor schools its hidden wealth unveil.
+Philosophy and art have treasures gained,
+ But in this quest they must forever fail--
+Experience only can the gift impart,
+Bring needed light and regulate the heart.
+
+To solace those who grieve one must have felt
+ In his own heart the rending pangs of pain;
+The heart that suffers not will never melt
+ At others' woes, though free from selfish stain;
+What we have felt and seen we truly know,
+And thus endowed, our tears for others flow.
+
+So leave thy much-loved lyre awhile unstrung
+ Till health again invigorate thy frame;
+With brain renewed, with vigorous heart and lung
+ Take up thy work once more, and greater fame--
+A richer man by far than e'er before,
+For thou hast treasure on the other shore.
+
+[Footnote 1: These lines were written directly after Mr. Kipling's
+recovery from severe illness.]
+
+
+
+
+MEN BELOW DECK
+
+
+The battleship its anchor weighs,
+ And belches forth its thunder;
+Its commodore all classes praise,
+ And at his victories wonder;
+And well they may--for braver man
+ Ne'er wielded sword or sabre;
+But tell me, brother, if you can,
+ Who did the lowly labor.
+
+Below the deck in engine-room,
+ As oilers and coal-heavers?
+Amidst the smut and ghastly gloom,
+ Who worked the iron levers?
+And thus it is in other lines;
+ Brave men are often hidden
+"Below the deck," in shops and mines,
+ To higher plane unbidden.
+
+The men on deck the praise receive,
+ But meagre thanks the others;
+As honest men they seldom grieve,
+ And envy not their brothers;
+A common cause they gladly serve,
+ Though in a lowly station,
+From path of duty never swerve--
+ Loyal to God and nation.
+
+For when the smoke has cleared away,
+ And din of battle ended,
+On upper deck, in bright array,
+ By angel bands attended,
+The whole ship's crew will then appear,
+ From high and lowly station,
+And each the words "well done" shall hear,
+ 'Midst shouts of acclamation.
+
+
+
+
+"OTHERS SAVE WITH FEAR"
+
+
+Some men there are who stand so straight,
+So equipoised, that others' fate
+Seems to depend on their behest;
+And useless all our every quest
+To gain perfection or renown,
+Unless we touch the flowing gown
+Of these high-priests, whose shadows fall
+Within themselves, if fall at all.
+
+Others are not as straight as these,
+But more like rough and gnarled trees;
+But little beauty they display;
+Shadows they cast across the way;
+And from them men with scorning turn,
+Or, if they speak, their accents burn
+Like capsicum on chafed skin,
+And leave a smarting wound within.
+
+Once noble men, when turned aside
+By fleshly lust or sinful pride,
+Each one becomes a broken bell
+On which the angry fiends of hell
+Ring out their discord, harsh and loud,
+As if with demon powers endowed.
+Colossal once through grace they were;
+Colossal still, though cleft and bare.
+
+On northern rocks is often seen
+The impress of some southern sheen,
+The brightness of a warmer bloom,
+Unknown to winter's frost and gloom.
+The fossil flower of epoch fair
+Has left its lasting impress there.
+So in some men whose hearts are cold
+You find a trace of days of old.
+
+While we deplore the Arctic chill,
+The frigid heart, the ice-bound will,
+We must admire the fossil trace,
+Still seen, of early days of grace.
+Hiding from sight as best we can
+The traces of the fallen man,
+We feast our eyes upon the fair,
+Though fossil, lines that linger there.
+
+How to restore is our concern,
+As we o'er their declensions mourn.
+Can such dire ruin be repaired?
+Only if God's strong arm be bared.
+But we must do a brother's part,
+And try to thaw the frozen heart;
+Not by the fire of wrath above,
+But by the melting coals of love.
+
+As bullets smooth are farther shot,
+Because rough angles they have not,
+So gentle ways and loving speech
+Are sure the erring heart to reach,
+While jagged deeds and words unkind,
+Like pebbles rough, much friction find;
+They fall before they reach the goal,
+And seldom help the needy soul.
+
+To truth be loyal, but take a care
+That with true zeal _tact_ have a share.
+The lightning when it strikes the tree
+Runs with the grain, as oft you see;
+Those who at angling are adepts,
+Choose well their bait and guard their steps;
+So if you would the sinner gain,
+Bait well your hook, or mark the grain.
+
+
+
+
+TREAD SOFTLY
+
+
+In the courts of truth tread softly,
+ Though your tread be firm and bold;
+Your steps may awaken echoes,
+ Resounding through years untold.
+The trend of the age is onward,
+ And you should not lag behind;
+If men's minds are bound with fetters,
+ Perchance you may some unbind.
+
+Our creed, say you, needs revising,
+ In line with the growth of light;
+Be sure you have made real progress
+ Before you assume the right,
+By stroke of pen, to unsettle
+ The faith of the long ago;
+For many who err in judgment
+ Stand fast to the truth they know.
+
+You bring from the mine rare jewels,
+ That you think the world should see;
+But, perhaps, their estimation
+ With your own may not agree;
+They may lack discrimination,
+ And their worth may not discern;
+So polish them at your leisure,
+ And give the world time to learn.
+
+Before you dig up the old tree
+ That sheltered in ages past
+The earth's noblest men and women
+ From the fury of the blast,
+See that your sapling is rooted,
+ And no borer at its base,
+And its boughs both strong and spreading,
+ To cover an erring race.
+
+Bear down on the lever gently,
+ Or the rock may be o'erturned!
+Or, perchance, your lever shattered,
+ And little experience learned!
+Take time to adjust your fulcrum,
+ Then thrust home your iron bar;
+Bear down and the rock is lifted,
+ Is lifted without a jar.
+
+Your views are, perhaps, exotic--
+ Young shoots from a tropic brain,
+They need to be better rooted
+ To endure the wind and rain;
+You may well admire the markings
+ On each graceful stem and leaf,
+But if taken from the hot-house,
+ They will surely come to grief.
+
+Before they have wholly perished
+ They may please admiring eyes,
+The old be thrown on the dunghill,
+ To receive your floral prize;
+They adorn the porch and window,
+ And brighten the wayside bed,
+But we waken some summer morning
+ To find our new treasures dead.
+
+'Tis better to make haste slowly,
+ Than to antedate your day;
+The farmer waits for the sunshine,
+ To transmute the grass to hay.
+When the fields are ripe for harvest
+ Fear neither the heat or rain,
+But thrust in your sharpened sickle,
+ And gather the golden grain.
+
+
+
+
+"IT WAS MY FAULT"[2]
+
+
+Those men are deemed heroes who rush on the foe
+Regardless of danger, and seek not to know
+ What others may do;
+Stern duty demands it--why should they falter
+If all they hold dear is laid on the altar,
+ And conscience be true?
+
+The greatest of all is the man who can say
+When battle is over and foe gained the day,
+ "The fault was in me:
+My plan miscarried through miscalculation;
+On me rests the blame, and not on the nation:
+ My soldiers are free."
+
+In George Stewart White, and men of like mind,
+Our nation can rest, for in them you will find
+ A true manliness;
+Their failures acknowledged are failures no more;
+Defeat to such men only opens the door
+ To future success.
+
+[Footnote 2: General White's words.]
+
+
+
+
+KEPT THE FLAG FLOATING
+
+ "Thank God, we have kept the flag floating."--_General White._
+
+
+Some men, like French, display much dash;
+ They boldly rush upon the foe,
+Their sword-blades like the lightning flash,
+As they on helm or hauberk clash;
+ Nor fear the foeman's blow.
+We praise them for their gallant deeds;
+They are the men the Empire needs.
+
+But true as they are those who stand
+ Within the fort beleaguered round;
+Resources few at their command,
+Their army but a feeble band,
+ Yet bravely hold their ground;
+And o'er their blood-bespattered coats
+The Union Jack in triumph floats.
+
+Reduced their strength through lack of food,
+ And fever germs on vitals preyed;
+Yet they o'er trouble did not brood,
+By night or day of cheerful mood;
+ This burden on them weighed--
+To keep the flag afloat--in brief,
+Till Buller came to their relief.
+
+Brave White, accept our meed of praise!
+ We crown thee equal to the best
+Of heroes of the olden days,
+Whose deeds inspired the poets' lays!
+ We need no further quest;
+But this with gratitude we note,
+Thy valour kept the flag afloat!
+
+Valor like thine does not surprise
+ When we review thy noble past;
+A hero is the one who tries,
+Though he may not to ideal rise--
+ His plan may fail at last--
+Yet is too brave to lay the blame
+On others, but takes all the shame.
+
+"The fault was mine," thy language then,
+ Revealing the divinest grace
+Possessed by truly noble men,
+And, prophecy of triumph, when
+ With foe brought face to face,
+The choice remains, defeat or death,
+The flag will float till latest breath.
+
+
+
+
+MARY
+
+
+She brought her alabaster flask
+ Well-filled with precious nard;
+Nor did she deem the act a task,
+ Nor look for great reward;
+She only thought of His great love,
+ And felt her gift was small
+For Him who left His home above
+ To suffer death for all.
+But her blest Lord more highly prized
+ The loving heart that gave;
+For loveless gifts are e'er despised,
+ Yet men oft seek to pave
+The way that leads to glory land
+ With deeds devoid of grace;
+But only those who love can stand
+ Approved before His face.
+
+
+
+
+A WORLD REDEEMED
+
+
+This world is but the shadow
+ Of the world that is to be,
+A ripple on the surface
+ Of a deep, unfathomed sea.
+God's plans are always perfect,
+ But long ages intervene
+From the planning of the temple
+ To the glow upon its sheen;
+But we can be co-workers
+ In accomplishing his plan;
+For in God's purpose is a place
+ For every son of man.
+
+The germ may be developed
+ In a more salubrious clime,
+All obstacles surmounted
+ In the onward march of time,
+And nature's forces harnessed
+ Will their destiny fulfil,
+And things now deemed supernal
+ Respond to human will;
+For God has so adjusted
+ The laws of this earthly sphere,
+That by man's help his plans unfold,
+ And order doth appear.
+
+The words of God's own prophets
+ Concerning these latter days
+Of mighty transformations,
+ To our great Redeemer's praise;
+When wastes shall glow in beauty,
+ And the savage beast be kind,
+Though they have prior fulfilment
+ In the realm of soul and mind;
+Will then be more than figure,
+ Though that we all count sublime;
+The earth will wear its regal robes
+ In every land and clime.
+
+This life is but a sample
+ Of the life that is to be;
+There we know the perfect lesson,
+ Here we learn the a--b--c;
+And the life beyond is fashioned
+ By the thoughts and deeds of this;
+Fitting it for realms of darkness,
+ Or for never-ending bliss;
+For those alone will sorrow
+ Who receive His grace in vain,
+But those who wrought with God will prove
+ That godliness is gain.
+
+
+
+
+ALASKAN BOUNDARY SETTLEMENT
+
+
+My neighbor's farm and mine lie side by side,
+And nothing should our mutual trust divide;
+But they who made th' original survey
+Were guided by the stars, the records say,
+So that the line that marks out our domain
+Is indistinct, and puzzling doubts remain.
+
+Our farms are large, and portions near the line
+With rocky soil and stunted spruce and pine,
+With scarce a wigwam or a ranger's hearth,
+We left untilled, and deemed of little worth;
+The petals of this desert rose unfold,
+When man discovers mines of yellow gold.
+
+"Where is the boundary line?" is now the cry.
+Each stakes his claim and gives his reason why;
+One sought an exit to the main highway,
+The other closed the gates and gained the day
+In custom duties on the shining ore,
+And stores for man and beast that inland pour.
+
+Each claimed his own, whatever that may be,
+Yet, neighbors true, we feared to disagree.
+We studied maps and treaties old and new,
+Yet each his own line-fence declared was true;
+Then, to avoid unseemly strife, we chose
+To settle our dispute as friends, not foes.
+
+My neighbor chose three men in his employ,
+I three, at least, accepted them with joy;
+Not chosen these to arbitrate our case,
+But from material at command to trace,
+In harmony with law, the primal line
+For boundary fence, between his farm and mine.
+
+I _lost my case_--all but one narrow lane!
+All other gates are closed, but why complain?
+Diminished somewhat is my large estate,
+But self-respect remains--nor place for hate;
+O'er our line-fence we grasp each other's hand,
+And for the right, united, ever stand.
+
+
+
+
+MY PRIMROSE
+
+
+My sweet primrose with thy open face,
+And with fringe-like leaves, without a trace
+Of coarseness, either in flower or stem,
+Among all my plants thou art the gem.
+
+My lovely lilies soon disappear;
+Thy bloom is constant through all the year;
+In summer's heat and winter's cold,
+Undimmed the light of thy floral gold.
+
+Or if thy color be pink, or blue,
+Or white as snow, thou art ever true;
+My room is bright with thy smiling eyes,
+And thy fragrance rare I also prize.
+
+Thou hast done thy part, my little pet--
+Let me keep thy roots forever wet,
+But guard with care all thy tender leaves
+And growing crown, which the earth-crust heaves.
+
+Thou dost heaven-ward tend, aspiring high,
+To kiss the stars in the vaulted sky,
+And they look down from the azure blue,
+My sweet primrose--they are smiling, too.
+
+
+
+
+NIAGARA'S RAINBOW
+
+
+Upon the "table-rock" I stand,
+ And gaze into the depths profound,
+In ecstacy at sights so grand,
+ And deafened by the sound
+Of rushing waters, as they leap
+Like maddened steeds, down hillside steep.
+
+The falling spray my head bedews,
+ As gently as a vernal shower;
+Or, as the Holy Ghost imbues
+ In consecrated hour,
+The soul that inly yearns for love,
+And seeks it from the throne above.
+
+But I see more than chasm deep,
+ Than falling spray and rushing tide.
+Sublime, indeed, the awful leap;
+ The awe will long abide--
+God's _rainbow hangs in colors bright_,
+A thing of beauty in my sight.
+
+Our cousins on the other side
+ And we too often disagree;
+Puffed up, I fear, at times, with pride,
+ Each strong, and brave, and free;
+But we forget the stormy past,
+Our lands and hearts are linked at last.
+
+The "Union-Jack" hangs o'er my head,
+ The "Stars and Stripes" my cousin rears,
+But old-time grievances are dead
+ For all the coming years;
+As separate flags they still may wave,
+But we are _one_ the world to save.
+
+
+
+
+MY SISTER NELL AND I
+
+
+We strolled down by the river side,
+ My sister Nell and I,
+To watch the waters onward glide,
+ And vessels passing by.
+
+On Nature's floor of lovely green,
+ Bedecked with flowers of gold,
+The purple sassafras as sheen,
+ Which trumpet vines enfold.
+
+We played our youthful games for hours,
+ And told our childish tales;
+Adorned each brow with fragrant flowers,
+ And slept 'neath cooling gales.
+
+For I was then but nine years old,
+ And she was only seven;
+Yet joys like ours can ne'er be told--
+ They savored much of heaven.
+
+Close by the bank, in shady nooks,
+ The waxen lilies grew;
+We called them fish, and with our hooks
+ To shore full many drew.
+
+With these I made a wreath for Nell.
+ She was so good and pure,
+They seemed to suit her brow so well,
+ Yet could not long endure
+
+The heated brow and dewless air--
+ The river suits them best;
+But graced awhile her golden hair,
+ As dove would silken nest.
+
+Frail like the lilies, too, was Nell.
+ The fever's scorching blast
+Swept by, and my fair flowerette fell,
+ And to the dust was cast.
+
+But now she blooms in glory land,
+ Close by the tree of Life;
+Better to bloom at God's right hand
+ Than in this world of strife.
+
+I hope some day to meet her there,
+ And as in days of yore
+We plucked the lilies, pure and fair,
+ Up there we'll gather more.
+
+
+
+
+GATHER THE WAYSIDE FLOWERS
+
+
+'Tis well to have a goal in mind,
+ A life-aim, high and true;
+Clear as the day, and well defined,
+ And ever kept in view.
+But God has strewn along the way
+ Bright flowers of every hue.
+Gather the brightest while you may,
+ For they were meant for you.
+
+Heaven's joy transcends the joys of earth,
+ But if earth's joys be pure
+They must have had a heavenly birth,
+ And bless while they endure;
+So pluck the flower before it fades--
+ Drink from the purling stream;
+Nor look for sorrow's darkening shades,
+ But for the morning gleam.
+
+Life's burdens lose full half their weight
+ If gay our spirits be;
+The rest beyond we antedate,
+ And serve, though ever free.
+Our lamentations all will end,
+ Exchanged for smile and song,
+And men will mark our upward trend
+ By joy-points all along.
+
+The poet wrote, "no room for mirth;"
+ Much less for sigh and frown.
+"A vale of tears" may be this earth--
+ 'Tis so to every clown.
+The desert blossoms as the rose,
+ And joy flows everywhere;
+The star of hope in brightness glows,
+ No room for dark despair.
+
+Before we reach God's heaven above,
+ Enjoy His heaven below;
+And by the ministries of love
+ A Christlike nature show;
+For he who lives a selfish life
+ Must lose the joy of this;
+For highest good, vain is our strife,
+ If man share not our bliss.
+
+
+
+
+HIDE THEIR SCARS!
+
+
+A painter, high in worldy fame,
+ Was sought to reproduce by art
+A likeness of the man whose name
+ Sent darts of anguish through the heart
+Of mighty monarchs in his day;
+ For he by arms subdued the world.
+Kingdoms and empires owned his sway
+ And bowed beneath his flag unfurled.
+
+But Alexander bore a scar,
+ Deep marked upon his royal brow;
+To paint him thus would greatly mar
+ The monarch's beauty; as a slough
+Would mar the beauty of a lawn,
+ Where queenly feet are wont to tread;
+Or like the cloud at early dawn,
+ Which hides some glory 'neath its spread.
+
+To leave it out would not be true,
+ For Alexander bore the scar;
+The painter this resolved to do,
+ Which would be true, yet would not mar:
+To paint the monarch's head reclined,
+ With his fore-finger on his brow;
+And thus much grace with art combined,
+ Like ornament on vessel's prow.
+
+The finger rested on the scar,
+ As if mere chance had placed it there;
+And hid from sight this fruit of war,
+ And left a likeness true and fair.
+So let us try, as best we can,
+ To cover o'er each ugly scar
+Upon the brow of mortal man,
+ So none may see it, near nor far.
+
+
+
+
+"ASHAMED, BUT NOT AFRAID"
+
+
+O God, I am ashamed to die,
+ But not the least afraid;
+Tho' death's dark shadow draweth nigh,
+ Atonement has been made
+
+For every member of our race,
+ And I on it rely,
+And hope immortal blooms thro' grace;
+ I'm not afraid to die.
+
+But Thou hast done great things for me,
+ And I have nothing done.
+To set my sin-bound spirit free,
+ Was sacrificed Thy Son;
+
+And every day by Thy kind hand
+ Rich blessings are bestowed;
+Oh, how can I before Thee stand,
+ Or rest in Thine abode
+
+With self-respect, or feel at home
+ With no returns to show,
+My whole life like the worthless foam
+ On time's incessant flow.
+
+Oh, that in life's great harvest field,
+ I may some reaping do;
+Early and late the sickle wield,
+ And prove a reaper true.
+
+And when the summons comes from Thee,
+ While I on Christ rely,
+Thou wilt not be ashamed of me,
+ Nor I ashamed to die.
+
+
+
+
+DUNBAR
+
+
+Up to Dunbar our Cromwell went,
+Not to invade was his intent;
+But they who first King Charles sold
+Now turn their backs on friends of old,
+And principles they then held dear
+Were sacrificed for self, I fear.
+Another Stuart they receive,
+Who knew too well how to deceive;
+The most perfidious of his race,
+Corrupt in life, and void of grace,
+The menial of the Papacy;
+And yet content by oath to free
+Himself from Holy See's control,
+And covenant to save his soul
+By the Scotch Presbyterian mode,
+As to the crown this paved the road.
+But Cromwell brooked not this control;
+He wished man free to save his soul
+As conscience may to him dictate,
+Without subservience to the State.
+He saw also thro' the disguise
+Of one well versed in fraud and lies,
+And saw how England's liberties
+Were threatened by this scheme of his.
+So up to Dunbar Cromwell went;
+To break this compact his intent,
+Conserve the rights of Britons true
+To worship God in desk and pew
+As conscience may to them dictate,
+Without control of king, or state,
+Or Papal "bull," or legate's rod--
+Only accountable to God.
+On Sunday night he reached Dunbar.
+From darkened sky gleamed not a star;
+The way he travelled o'er was drear,
+Made doubly so by Scotchmen's fear.
+At his approach like sheep they fled,
+Made frantic by an awful dread
+Of red-hot irons, spear, and sword,
+Of breasts thrust thro', and bodies gored,
+Which they were told would be their lot
+When Cromwell came. So from each cot
+They bore away what pleased them best,
+And to the flames consigned the rest.
+But now Dunbar is reached; yet he
+Finds himself in extremity;
+Midst swamps and bogs unfit to tent,
+By Lammermoor from hillside rent,
+Leslie in front defiant stands
+A noble army he commands
+Of thousands two score seven, or more,
+Ready on Cromwell shot to pour.
+Behind the sea cut off retreat;
+With such great odds can he compete?
+The mountain sheep may safely tread
+The Lammermoor, but men may dread
+To cross this heath at any time;
+Much more now, midst the rain and slime,
+Will Cromwell with the smaller score
+Dare to cross o'er to Dunbar shore?
+Tho' shipped were half his guns and men
+The foe falls ere he turn again.
+With foresight keen, like one inspired,
+He saw the end ere Leslie fired.
+"THE LORD," said he, as rapt he stands,
+"HATH GIVEN THEM INTO OUR HANDS!"
+'Tis the ninth month and second day,
+A wild, wet night, historians say.
+Quit you like men, and bravely stand;
+Death's wrestle now is close at hand;
+Heed not the hoarse sea's doleful moan,
+As on the cliffs its waves are thrown.
+Think not of life nor kindred dear--
+Who goes to war should nothing fear
+But God, whose eye-lids never sleep--
+His Israel He will safely keep.
+Oh, pray! but keep your powder dry--
+Your part do, then on God rely.
+Stand to your arms the whole night thro'
+Or lie awake with arms in view.
+And you, ye Scots, your lights blow out,
+But stay not in your strong redoubt.
+'Midst shocks of corn your shelter seek,
+And rest in sleep; your foe is weak,
+Yet ere another night comes 'round
+In deeper slumber shall be found
+Full many of your stalwart host,
+And stilled for aye their every boast.
+In Cromwell's camp all night was heard
+The voice of prayer in tones which stirred
+The tender hearts of "Ironside" men,
+As never can be told by pen.
+Ere shone the first faint streak of morn,
+The Scots beneath the shocks of corn,
+Stretched out full length in quiet sleep,
+Hear a loud blast, and upward leap
+To seize their arms and face the foe.
+Too late the warning! or, too slow
+Their movements when the trump was heard,
+Yet rang along the lines the word
+Of battle-cry by Leslie sent,
+"_The Covenant! The Covenant!_"
+While high and strong was Cromwell's boast,
+"_The Lord of Hosts! The Lord of Hosts!_"
+With master skill he struck the blow,
+And when shone out the crimson glow
+Of morning sun upon the sea,
+Brave Leslie's men began to flee.
+"_They run! Oh, I protest they run!
+Let God arise! Let God arise!
+And scattered be His enemies!_"
+Loud Cromwell cried. _The work was done._
+Then rose from England's host a cry
+Which rent the very heavens on high.
+Now halt they on the battle field
+And to the Lord their homage yield--
+And sing this song with hearts devout:
+"_O praise the Lord, ye nations all!
+Laud Him all peoples on this ball!
+His mercy toward us e'er is great;
+His truth and grace for sinners wait,
+ Let all the people shout!_"
+
+
+
+
+MARSTON MOOR
+
+
+The armies met on Marston Moor,
+'Midst lightning's flash and thunder's roar;
+As murky clouds sweep o'er the sky,
+God's cannonade with man's will vie.
+The Royalists in phalanx strong,
+By fiery Rupert led along,
+From Bolton's cruel massacre
+Towards York, in hope to keep it free
+From the Roundheads at any cost.
+"If York be lost, my crown is lost"--
+Wrote Charles to this trusted chief,
+And he must bring it prompt relief.
+The foe's true strength he did not know,
+But dazzled much by victory's glow
+He hoped with ease to overthrow
+ The untrained volunteers;
+Nor did he for brave Cromwell care,
+Tho' he had asked "is Cromwell there?"
+ Would not his grenadiers
+Scatter those yeomen to their fields,
+To hold their ploughs instead of shields?
+Thus confident of great success
+He asked his chaplain now to bless
+From God's own word their going out,
+And seemed to hear the victor's shout,
+While from the ranks of Roundheads rose
+Triumphant hymns, ere came the blows.
+Now Rupert madly dashes out,
+"_God and the King!_" his battle shout;
+Charges the parliamentary ranks
+In centre, heedless of the flanks,
+Defeats Lord Fairfax and Leven,
+Scatters like leaves their untrained men.
+Remorselessly he hewed them down,
+And chased their leaders far from town.
+But Cromwell kept his men restrained
+Till Rupert thought the victory gained.
+His eye was all ablaze with fire,
+And burned his soul with righteous ire;
+Then sharp and passionate came the cry,
+"_Charge, in the name of the Most High!_"
+His features now most clearly show
+A strange, enthusiastic glow.
+With zeal he wraps himself about,
+And fires men's hearts with glance and shout.
+"For God and king," is Rupert's cry.
+"_For truth and peace we dare to die!_"
+Shouts Cromwell, all the lines along,
+Which holds as with a mighty thong
+Th' immortal hosts of Puritans,
+While on them fall the Royal bans.
+As Roundheads, Rupert them derides;
+Not Roundheads now, but _Ironsides_.
+The heavens were black, the storm still raged,
+As tho' with earth a war it waged,
+But raged a fiercer war just then,
+Not forces blind, but men with men;
+For two score thousand men were there;
+And booming cannon rent the air.
+
+
+The Cavaliers were scattered wide,
+Brought to the dust their haughty pride;
+Across the beanfield Rupert fled,
+His standard gone, his garments red;
+His men by many hundreds turned
+To ask for mercy, nor were spurned;
+While he left all and to York sped,
+Heedless of stores, or Royal dead.
+To Cromwell's swords as stubble they,
+And _Truth and Peace_ had gained the day.
+
+
+
+
+OIL THE CRICKET
+
+
+"Mamma, what noises do I hear?
+ They keep me wide awake."
+"The chirping crickets, little dear;
+ What funny noise they make!"
+
+"Yes, ma, but touch their tongues with oil,
+ To take the squeak away;
+For soon it will their voices spoil,
+ To squeak thus night and day."
+
+Well done, my little girl of three;
+ 'Twould tune our speaking gear
+To utter sweeter melody
+ For your attentive ear,
+
+If it were oiled a little, too,
+ For harsh too oft its tones;
+Though formed to thrill with pleasure true,
+ It gives forth shrieks and groans,
+
+Which fall discordant on the ear,
+ And budding pleasures spoil,
+And speaking gear, likewise I fear;
+ So bring along the oil.
+
+
+
+
+THE REAL
+
+
+The leaf is faded, and decayed the flower,
+The birds have ceased to sing in wayside bower,
+The babbling brook is silenced by the cold,
+And hill and vale the frost and snow enfold.
+The life we see seems hasting to the tomb
+Nor sun, nor star, relieves the dismal gloom;
+The good man suffers with the base and vile,
+And honesty and truth give place to guile.
+
+
+Things are not always as they seem to be;
+The outer surface only man may see.
+The summer sleeps beneath the quilt of snow,
+Behind the clouds is hid the solar glow,
+The babbling brook will burst its icy bands,
+And birds will sing, and trees will clap their hands.
+The fallen leaf has left a bud behind,
+And flowers will bloom of brightest hue and kind;
+For when we look beneath the outward crust
+With vision clear, and free from worldly lust,
+We will behold a brighter world than this,
+With less of curse and much of noble bliss;
+For God's kind hand in all our conflicts here
+Is clearly seen and doubts must disappear;
+The end He has in view is most benign;
+The fire will dross consume and gold refine.
+
+
+
+
+VICTORY GAINED AND LIFE LOST
+
+
+As fought the Paladins of old,
+With gleaming swords and spirit bold,
+To thwart the schemes of base Lothar,
+Give France to Karl in holy war,
+ So would we battle for the right,
+ Tho' we may perish in the fight.
+
+Our trusty blade, not made of steel,
+While wounding deep, doth also heal;
+With this, and clad in Christian mail,
+The hosts of sin we would assail,
+ To gain the world for Christ, tho' we
+ Should fall while shouting victory!
+
+
+
+
+THE BAPTISM OF CLOVIS
+
+
+Five hundred years have nearly passed away
+ Since that glad morn, when o'er fair Bethl'hem's plain
+A light resplendent as the glow of day,
+ Shone down from heaven, and holy angels deign
+To sing the sweetest song e'er heard by mortal ear,
+Which fills sad hearts with joy and drives away their fear.
+
+Clovis, of the brave Franks, the king, and sheen,
+ Heard from Aurelian of a maid to wed,
+Matchless in feature, and of graceful mein--
+ "Zenobia, of the Alps," Aurelian said,
+"The daughter of Chilperic, the Burgundian king,
+Clotilda is her name; fair maids her praises sing.
+
+"She dwells among the Alps, in forest glade,
+ And by the shore of its most famous lake;
+But fairer than that land is this fair maid;
+ And brighter than its peaks at morn's awake;
+A Christian girl is she, whose heart God has renewed,
+And her fine, comely mind with grace and truth embued."
+
+Then Clovis, by Aurelian, sent a ring
+ To this fair damsel, whom he hoped to wed;
+She took the ring; and soon fair songsters sing
+ The marriage hymn, as he to altar led
+This lovely Christian maid. They plight their nuptial vows;
+And the old priest invoked a blessing on their brows.
+
+Then on her head a coronet was placed,
+ And she sat down by Clovis on his throne;
+And never was a throne so highly graced,
+ Nor ever monarch felt less sad and lone;
+He found in her a bride, and counsellor, as well,
+And happy are the men who in her palace dwell.
+
+In tones of eloquence and words of power,
+ The wond'rous story of the cross she told;
+Christ's lowly birth, pure life, and of the hour
+ When He, to bring us to the heavenly fold,
+Bore on the cross our sins, and opened mercy's door,
+Then from the dead arose to reign for evermore.
+
+Soon on Tolbiac's bloody field the king
+ Led on his troops against a mighty foe;
+A foe too strong; for soon, though no weakling,
+ Clovis retreats--his men returned no blow;
+But fled as timid sheep before a beast of prey;
+The conquering Alemanni will surely win the day.
+
+"O king! cry on Clotilda's Christ for aid!"
+ Shouted Aurelian, as the monarch fled;
+Then, on his helmet, Clovis his hand laid,
+ And lifting it, these words the monarch said:
+"My gods have failed to help: O Christ, Clotilda's God,
+Grant me Thy mighty aid, and I will kiss Thy rod."
+
+On the French pennons triumph perches now;
+ The foe is routed by Clotilda's God;
+And Clovis wished to have upon his brow
+ The symbol of her faith; for 'neath the rod
+Of the eternal King he bows his regal will,
+And waits, with heart devout, Christ's purpose to fulfil.
+
+On Rheims now dawns a cloudless Christmas morn;
+ And flags of silk and satin grace each tower;
+This is the day Clotilda's Christ was born,
+ And to His cause a great triumphal hour,
+For see, on carpet stretched from church to palace door,
+A grand procession march, of two-score priests or more!
+
+Remigius had led the way, and then,
+ Assisted by his priests, on monarch's brow,
+And on the brows of full six thousand men,
+ As they before the holy altar bow;
+The water from the font he sprinkled down like rain,
+Thankful that his blest Lord so many hearts should gain.
+
+
+
+
+THE WATER LILY
+
+
+This lovely lily, so pure and white,
+Seems covered o'er with celestial light;
+As if it grew on the "Tree of Life,"
+And not down here, in this world of strife;
+Too pure for earth it now seems to be;
+My queenly wife, it was meant for thee.
+
+Its wax-like petals with graceful bend,
+Drink in the sunbeams as they descend;
+And lade with fragrance the heated air
+As it floats around us everywhere;
+And the world grows better by its advent,
+This lovely lily, so kindly sent.
+
+It rested once on its crystal bed;
+Neither wind, nor wave, occasioned dread;
+Admired by all as they passed it by,
+Though the contrast oft produced a sigh;
+In purer soil than affords this earth
+This lovely lily must have had its birth.
+
+Dive down in search, where the root is found;
+In vain you look for the purer ground;
+The root is fixed in the foulest mud;
+And from it grows this pure lily bud;
+While speckled frogs, and the slimy eels,
+Around its roots find their daily meals.
+
+As lilies fair from the foul mud grow,
+So oft it is with good men below;
+In daily life they absorb the pure,
+And the adverse elements endure;
+And rise, through grace, to a higher sphere,
+Their hearts in heaven, and their root down here.
+
+Though foul the world where they have their growth,
+Unfit the soil, and the climate both,
+The blood of Christ does their stains remove;
+His power to keep they all daily prove;
+As lilies pure are these plants of grace,
+Though growing now in so foul a place.
+
+
+
+
+"HE SHALL WIPE AWAY EVERY TEAR"
+
+
+Every tear that dims the eye,
+ Or bedews the careworn cheek,
+Will our God, who reigns on high,
+ With a hand so kind and meek,
+Wipe away, nor leave a trace
+Of its stain on eye or face.
+
+He alone life's ills can right.
+ Each His tender pity needs;
+None are hidden from His sight;
+ "_Every tear_," the promise reads--
+Every tear shall cease to flow,
+Cease, likewise, the cause of woe.
+
+O may I in Him confide
+ While I tread this vale of tears!
+Walking closely by His side
+ He will dissipate my fears,
+And when ends the weary strife,
+May I share the tearless life!
+
+
+
+
+THE TAJ OF AGRA
+
+
+The Shah Jehan sat with his much-loved wife,
+ The Empress Mahal, one hot summer day,
+In a cool arbor far from courtly strife,
+ Close by the Jumna, winding on its way.
+
+In silence played they long their game of chess,
+ But Jehan's eyes rose oft to Mahal's brow,
+His ardent love he could not well repress,
+ Nor tried--she was his own rich jewel now.
+
+He stayed the game to breathe some words of love
+ And press her lips with lips that knew no guile,
+And felt the thrill, and peace like white-winged dove
+ Flew down, and she repaid with loving smile.
+
+Then said, "What would you do if I should die?"
+ He paused a moment, some bright thought to woo,
+And then, in solemn tone, made this reply:
+ "This thing, by Allah's help, I'll surely do:
+
+"I'll build upon the spot where we now sit
+ The grandest tomb a woman ever had;
+All sombre tints I deem would be unfit;
+ For never have such tints thy bosom clad.
+
+"Of pure white marble shall its walls be built,
+ Adorned with gold, and earth's most costly gems;
+Each minaret shall glow like jewelled hilt,
+ Sarcophagus surpass kings' diadems.
+
+"Then to the world it shall the truth proclaim
+ That Moomtaza surpassed all woman kind,
+And I esteemed her more than gold or fame:
+ Thus cycles vast will find our names combined."
+
+The summer breeze now sighed among the flowers
+ As they play on with solemn thoughts; and sweet
+As running brook passed by the pleasant hours,
+ And likewise passed the burning summer heat.
+
+And like the fading day, the Empress, too,
+ For scarce a year had passed ere set her sun,
+But Shah Jehan, to promise ever true,
+ Thought of the tomb his loving wife had won.
+
+No common architect would he engage;
+ From far and near he sought with eager heart.
+At last there came one Issa, gifted sage,
+ Whose plan pleased the great shah in whole and part.
+
+On the same spot where they that day had played
+ The game of chess, and he the promise gave,
+The massive stone foundation strong was laid,
+ On which would rest a palace o'er her grave.
+
+Then Issa disappeared, but where, none knew;
+ Cast in the Jumna stream, by foes, some thought.
+They dragged the stream, nor came the slightest clue,
+ And on his fate the oracles were dumb.
+
+The years rolled by, yet Jehan rested not,
+ Tho' hope, so long delayed, engendered gloom,
+Content to live himself in any cot;
+ But no inferior hand must touch her tomb.
+
+Seven years had gone, when Issa came again,
+ And offered this excuse for his delay,
+"The soil is spongy all along this glen--
+ To have it settle I have stayed away.
+
+"I now can build on base that will not sink,
+ Though pierced the clouds which bend so kindly down,
+'Twere fit this long delay, dost thou not think?
+ So chide me not nor on thy servant frown."
+
+Then on this base as firm as granite rock,
+ He built its walls as fair as falling snow,
+And built them well, nor storm, nor earthquake shock
+ Has moved, tho' built two hundred years ago.
+
+For ten long years wrought twenty thousand men,
+ While many thousand carts the marble drew;
+And proud Jehan told o'er his love again;
+ To love so Jacob-like the years seemed few.
+
+From every part of his domain they brought
+ Rare gems and precious stones of every hue;
+Skilled hands, in form of birds and flowers inwrought
+ In snow-white walls, these gems the building through,
+
+The name of God, one hundred times save one,
+ On the sarcophagus, by cunning hand,
+Then lined with gold ere they pronounced it done;
+ But then the grandest tomb in any land.
+
+By Titans built, it seems, as mountain high
+ Of pure white marble, based on pink sandstone;
+In length it is a thousand feet well nigh,
+ Its width three hundred feet by measure shown.
+
+It seems a temple of the living _One_,
+ Though tomb to hide the dust of Jehan's queen.
+It serves each purpose well--her course was run,
+ Returned to God, love must the dust ensheen.
+
+To many hearts it speaks of God and rest,
+ And lifts our thoughts above the things of earth;
+It teaches us that love will give its best,
+ And then regard its gifts of little worth.
+
+
+
+
+ENGLAND'S BRAVE SONS
+
+
+The yeoman lays aside his soil-stained smock,
+ And from his herd selects a trusty steed,
+ And sallies forth to help in hour of need;
+ Nor dreads the battle's shock.
+
+The artisan from mine, or shop, or store,
+ Responds at duty's call without delay,
+ Nor stops to ask, "What will my nation pay?"
+ It calls--what needs he more?
+
+The man of law--the herald of the cross--
+ The painter, skilled--he of the healing art--
+ The man of trade--come each with loyal heart,
+ Nor calculates his loss.
+
+But brave as these are those of noble birth;
+ Genteel in manner, but with athlete frames,
+ They do full honor to their ancient names,
+ And prove by deeds their worth.
+
+Palatial homes have they and wealth untold;
+ Nor need to labor, and no cause for fret,
+ But deeds of noble sires they ne'er forget;
+ Deem honor more than gold.
+
+Brave lads are these on whom we may rely.
+ They go uncalled, content the gaps to fill,
+ And in their places fall, if God so will,
+ For they fear not to die.
+
+The whole Empire is loyal to the core.
+ From far-off East, brave Indians seek the fray,
+ And on French soil have clearly shown that they
+ Were true to flag they bore.
+
+Their old-time leader greets his men once more,
+ Bestows his parting blessing ere his death,
+ And praised their valor with his final breath,
+ Then crossed to _other_ shore.
+
+Our own brave youth by thousands answer call,
+ And in our common cause enroll their names;
+ With cultured minds and well-developed frames
+ They stand like granite wall.
+
+For _truth_ and _brotherhood_ all face the foe;
+ Themselves they cannot save, but others may.
+ But, live or die, they hope to win the day.
+ To sacrifice they go!
+
+
+
+
+QUEEN VICTORIA
+
+A Prize Birthday Poem, 1885.
+
+
+We do not sing of vast domain--
+ Empires as vast as ours are seen,
+And o'er their millions despots reign;
+ We sing the virtues of our Queen.
+
+We think of her when but a maid
+ The message came, "_the King is dead!_"
+And at her feet a crown was laid;
+ In deep distress of mind, she said:
+
+"_In my behalf I ask your prayers._"
+ Then falling on her knees to pray,
+She told the Lord her fears and cares,
+ And sought from Him strength for her day.
+
+He seemed to say, "_Child, do not fear;
+ I will uphold thee with my hand,
+And I will make thy pathway clear,
+ Thy throne establish in the land._"
+
+'Twas thus began Victoria's reign,
+ And God has made her throne secure;
+Her enemies will plot in vain,
+ For it is destined to endure.
+
+But while she sits on regal throne,
+ And acts full well a regal part,
+She reigns not on the throne alone,
+ She reigns to-day in England's heart.
+
+Her queenly heart with pity throbs
+ For every suffering subject's woes;
+In lowly cot, 'midst groans and sobs,
+ She like a ray of sunshine goes.
+
+As sweet perfume by outward gale
+ Is carried far o'er sea and land,
+So queenly virtues never fail
+ To touch true hearts on every strand.
+
+In every land, her name is blest;
+ She is beloved by old and young;
+From pole to pole, from east to west,
+ The song, "God save the Queen," is sung.
+
+Through sorrows deep her path has led,
+ And tender ties have sundered been;
+Bright hopes were buried with her dead,
+ And love has kept their memory green.
+
+By grief secluded from the world,
+ Her path through lonely years she trod,
+And oft her life has been imperilled;
+ But she has leaned upon her God.
+
+And as she wept a nation's tears
+ In heartfelt sympathy were shed;
+Forgetting their own griefs and biers,
+ They wept beside the royal dead.
+
+With grateful hearts her natal day
+ We loyal Britons hail again,
+And join with millions as they pray
+ "_God bless our Queen! Long may she reign!_"
+
+And when at last life's glories fade,
+ And robes of state are laid aside,
+When nature's debt to dust is paid
+ And charms no more earth's pomp and pride,
+
+May angel bands her spirit bear
+ Up to the palace of her King,
+Where she a fadeless crown shall wear,
+ And the new song with rapture sing.
+
+
+
+
+SILVER TONES
+
+
+A stately church by pious hands erected long ago,
+Was found to lack a vesper bell, by which the poor might know
+The hour of prayer, the hour of mass, and who had lately died,
+The hour when gent and bonny lass, so timid at his side,
+Would stand before the surpliced priest, and twain would pledge
+ their troth,
+The hour in which the priest would vent on heretic his wrath.
+The faithful then were called upon to bring from home and mine
+The metal for the holy bell, which must be strong and fine.
+In smelting pot of massive size they placed the needed ore;
+A molten mass it soon became, but ere in mould they pour,
+And thus provide a bell for God to grace His temple fair,
+In crowds the people came, to see the metal glowing there.
+Then as they passed, with hearts devout, each took a silver coin
+And dropped it in the glowing mass--no priest did this enjoin.
+They wished to show their grateful love to Him who bore their sin;
+A simple form which love took on, not done God's grace to win.
+Nor did they hope to win applause from priest and saintly friar;
+If God were pleased they asked no more, nor more did they desire;
+Nor did they deem their silver lost, though little dreamed they then
+The grand result of their small gifts, which now is known to men.
+Their coins were for a moment seen, like flakes of snow on sward,
+And then they melted out of sight, yet, seen by their blest Lord,
+They mingled with the glowing mass, and when in high church tower
+The bell was hung and daily rung, all people felt its power.
+Its booming tones were soft and sweet, and echoed o'er their hills
+In a grand symphony of praise, subduing all their wills,
+And calling forth from old and young a burst of rapturous praise.
+Their gifts, though small, were not despised; God turned them into lays.
+This world is one great smelting pot in which life's ore is cast,
+And from it God will some day bring a bell, destined to last
+And ring aloud in thunder tones wherever man is found.
+Oh, may we, by kind words and deeds, give it a silver sound!
+Each word though short, each deed though small, if for the Master's sake
+Are said and done, like silver coin, our blessed Lord will take,
+And skillfully will blend them with the coarser ore of earth,
+And grander music none have heard e'er since time had its birth.
+Then from this bell of silver tone will sound o'er hill and vale:
+"The work men do in Jesus' name is never known to fail."
+
+
+
+
+GOD'S ORDER
+
+
+Every flower that decks the way,
+Whether it be dun or gay,
+Fills a place in God's great plan,
+Serving Him, while pleasing man.
+Every star that gilds the night
+With its beams of silver light
+Has its mission to fulfil,
+As assigned it by God's will.
+
+Feathered songsters all declare
+As they cleave the ambient air,
+"He who made us made our lays,
+Giving each a note of praise;
+Each one's note, unique and sweet,
+Helps to make the song complete;
+Various tones, yet all agree,
+Forming one grand symphony."
+
+So, also, does God's own hand
+Fix in place each grain of sand,
+Tiny though that grain may be
+Hangs on it the destiny
+Of a world, yea, systems whole,
+As they in their orbits roll;
+Should it from its globe remove,
+Worlds would clash and chaos prove.
+
+When we reach the world of mind
+Law and order still we find;
+In God's purpose is a plan
+For the life of every man.
+Free, he may his own course choose,
+Help divine through pride refuse,
+But disorder will ensue--
+Life a wreck! Yet God is true.
+
+
+
+
+INFLUENCE
+
+
+In gentle showers the rain descends,
+ And softly falls the dew.
+The dewdrop with the raindrop blends;
+The tiny stream they form then wends
+ Its way the grasses through.
+
+And kindred streams with it combine
+ And form a rivulet;
+Then on it runs like trailing vine,
+Lays bare the roots of oak and pine,
+ And other brooks are met.
+
+The swelling stream meanders on,
+ Gives power to busy mills,
+And bears huge ships its breast upon,
+Gives drink to kine and lovely fawn,
+ And drinks up other rills.
+
+A lady's foot had changed its course,
+ And drank it dry a lamb,
+Had they but sought it at its source;
+But now it rushes on with force
+ And leaps the mighty dam.
+
+Thus is it with our influence here;
+ Each look, each word, each deed,
+Is like the rain, or dewdrop clear--
+Though tiny things they now appear,
+ They to the ocean lead.
+
+As grains of sand make up the hill
+ Which towers above the plain,
+And drops combine to swell the rill
+Which helps the mighty sea to fill,
+ So does our influence gain.
+
+
+
+
+UNDECAYING FRUIT
+
+
+Doomed to decay are all things here;
+ Whate'er their form or worth,
+Color and beauty disappear,
+ Or turn to mother earth.
+
+The luscious fruits which please the taste
+ And please the eye as well,
+Sometimes reduced to rot and waste,
+ Ere from the tree they fell--
+
+Some gathered with a gentle hand,
+ And stored away with care,
+To serve a place in banquet grand,
+ Some favorite peach or pear,
+
+Is found diseased in skin and core,
+ And loathsome to the sight,
+When 'tis too late to gather more,
+ And comes the festal night.
+
+So is it with all earthly joy--
+ It pleases for a time,
+As toy may please a growing boy,
+ Though costing but a dime;
+
+But soon he tires and asks for more,
+ Appropriate to his age;
+So, though a man may higher soar
+ And greater aims engage
+
+His active mind, he, like the child,
+ Soon looks for something new.
+Too oft are men by this beguiled
+ And fail to find the true.
+
+But he who goes to Christ for rest,
+ Finds fruit that ne'er decays.
+He sups with Christ as welcome guest,
+ And glory crowns his days.
+
+
+
+
+THE HEROES OF OUR DAY
+
+
+Heroic deeds in every age
+ Command the world's esteem;
+Each finds a place in history's page,
+ 'Midst gloom a glory beam.
+
+And we full oft revert to this,
+ To show man's true descent
+From Him who is the source of bliss,
+ Tho' now by passions rent.
+
+But we need not consult the past;
+ The present bears this fruit:
+The hero race will ever last;
+ The tree is sound at root.
+
+And never has the world excelled
+ The present in this line;
+Our loving Lord has not withheld
+ From us this trait divine.
+
+And we should not from them withhold
+ The praise we feel is due
+For deeds of love, and actions bold,
+ For spirit kind and true.
+
+Their worth we now should recognize,
+ Not chant it o'er their graves;
+The hero of the past we prize,
+ No less the man who braves
+
+The dangers of the present hour,
+ The sneers which now are rife,
+Not for the sake of earthly power,
+ Nor yet to save his life.
+
+But for the good of fellow man,
+ And for his Master's sake,
+He shuns no cross, and fears no ban;
+ 'Tis these a hero make.
+
+
+
+
+THE BIG BEAR CREEK
+
+
+The waters of the Big Bear creek
+ Glide slowly on their way;
+The western lakes they surely seek,
+ Which they will reach some day;
+
+But sluggishly they seek their end--
+ They scarcely seem to move;
+Yet through the fields and round each bend
+ Their progress daily prove.
+
+By debris borne upon their breast,
+ And strewn along each shore,
+They slowly move, but never rest,
+ Yet turbid evermore.
+
+But when they reach the Johnson bend
+ And the Sni Chartna meet,
+The turbid and the sky-blue blend--
+ The union is complete.
+
+And soon is lost all trace of mud;
+ Of azure tint the whole;
+With heaven's own hue the rolling flood
+ Has gained the long-sought goal.
+
+So is it with the soul renewed
+ While on its heaven-bound way,
+With grace divine it is embued,
+ Yet shows the trace of clay.
+
+And though to rest it never halts,
+ Its progress is so slow;
+Alas, it has too many faults,
+ Nor much of heavenly glow.
+
+But when God's sanctifying grace
+ Shall meet it from above,
+You seek in vain for sinful trace--
+ It now is full of love.
+
+A new impulse it then receives
+ Which speeds it on its way;
+To it no stain of sin now cleaves--
+ It seeks its perfect day.
+
+And as the azure stream has found
+ Its home in brimming lake,
+So shall the soul thus heavenward bound
+ Of God's own joy partake.
+
+
+
+
+THE FROST ON THE WINDOW
+
+
+Feathery frost on the window-pane,
+Who placed you there? "I cannot explain,"
+Each little feather at once replied;
+"But this I know, I'm the children's pride,
+As they think I fell from an angel's wing,
+And coming to earth must rich blessings bring.
+
+"I once formed part of a lovely bay;
+The sun shone out, and I turned to spray,
+And rose aloft on the ambient air,
+To the regions high where all is rare;
+Then I mingled with my old friends again,
+Who were my neighbors in the haunts of men.
+
+"On the blustering wind, I rode along,
+Sometimes hard tossed by the tempest strong,
+And then at rest, as when in the bay,
+Though much enlarged, the wise savants say;
+Though I cannot tell you how long my sleep,
+With a chill I woke and began to weep.
+
+"And my ample form much smaller grew,
+By the cold compressed to a drop of dew;
+Then down I fell, swift as bounding deer,
+And knew no more till I fell right here;
+But how I became so like a feather
+Is problem I can unravel never.
+
+"But, oh, how the sun begins to burn!
+I think I must to the clouds return.
+Farewell, my boy! but you must not fret;
+We meet again, as we now have met,
+If not as a feather, perhaps a tree,
+Or whatever the Wise One may make of me."
+
+
+
+
+"WILT THOU HARASS A DRIVEN LEAF?"
+
+
+O harass not a driven leaf,
+ Nor stubble dry in wrath pursue;
+A life so brief load not with grief,
+ Nor with thine arrow pierce me through.
+
+The fragile leaf, by tempest tost,
+ Is scarcely worth a passing thought;
+The brook is crossed, and then is lost;
+ There let it lie, a thing of naught.
+
+The stubble dry ne'er grows again;
+ To golden grain it gave its sap.
+It died, and then 'twas left by men
+ To rot betimes, or some mishap.
+
+Am I not like the stubble dry
+ And fragile leaf by tempest strewed?
+Must I not die, then tell me why
+ A thing so frail is thus pursued?
+
+A voice replies: "Thy life is frail,
+ Much like the leaf and stubble dry;
+Thy strength must fail, and as the gale
+ Bears them away, so must thou die;
+
+"But live again, in bliss, or pain;
+ For death to man does not end all;
+Life is not vain, if thou but gain
+ A _home in heaven_, when I shall call!
+
+"To fit thy soul for endless rest,
+ I harass now the driven leaf,
+But though sore pressed and grief distressed,
+ The life of sorrow will be brief.
+
+"And when released from suffering clay,
+ Thy blood-bought spirit shall arise
+To endless day. Then thou shalt say,
+ _The ways of God are good and wise._"
+
+
+
+
+A GEM
+
+
+The gem is not this ode itself;
+Hardly can it aspire so high.
+Earth has its gems; but all its wealth,
+
+Increased by thousands, cannot buy
+Man's _soul_, the gem of priceless worth,
+Made in God's image at its birth;
+Ordained to live for evermore;
+Redeemed by blood from sin and hell;
+Transformed by grace, God's love to tell;
+And at His feet its homage pour.
+Lordly are its endowments, too;
+
+Superb its destiny, if true;
+Only below, said one who knew,
+Unfallen angels round God's throne.
+Lord, may this gem be Thine alone.
+
+
+
+
+THE CLOUDS
+
+
+A grand stairway do these clouds appear
+As they heavenward rise, tier upon tier,
+With clearly-marked space of blue between,
+Compared with which human art looks mean.
+
+Do the angels tread this grand staircase,
+When they come to earth to bless our race,
+And lend their aid to each struggling soul
+As he ascends toward the heavenly goal?
+
+Was this the ladder by Jacob seen,
+That reached from heaven to the mattress green
+On which he lay all the lonely night
+Till God afforded the blessed sight,
+
+And made him feel, tho' an exile here,
+His father's God would be ever near--
+The servant's cry would to heaven arise,
+And blessings fall from the bending skies?
+
+But no staircase do the angels need;
+They come to earth at a greater speed,
+Not step by step, nor on eagle's wing,
+Nor beams of light do their message bring.
+
+Though heaven be far beyond mortal ken,
+Assisted by all the arts of men,
+A moment's time and the space is passed,
+And heaven's best gifts at our feet are cast.
+
+Not a cloud stairway, nor ladder long,
+Connects this earth with the land of song;
+The Saviour bends from the opening skies--
+He smiles in love, and our souls arise.
+
+As flakes of steel to the magnet fly,
+And mists ascend to the sun on high,
+So we are drawn by the cords of love
+From the earth below to thrones above.
+
+O lift me up from my bed of clay,
+To dwell with Thee in the realms of day.
+If 'tis Thy will I should tarry still,
+Prepare me, Lord, for Thy Holy Hill.
+
+
+
+
+THE MOSSES
+
+
+Exquisite mosses, so lovely and green,
+Covering the rocks with emerald sheen;
+Hiding the scars which convulsions have made;
+Blessing the mound where our angel was laid;
+Forming a carpet on which we may tread;
+Clothing with beauty the rotten and dead;
+Sheathing from storm-blasts the young forest tree--
+Beautiful mosses, examples for me.
+
+Trod under foot by all kinds of men;
+Gracing the mountain or hid in the fen;
+Never adorning the brow of the fair;
+Seldom deemed worthy some corner to share
+In the bouquets that are cast in the way
+Princely feet tread on reception's proud day;
+The glory of roses do not attain;
+Beautiful mosses, ye grow not in vain.
+
+Answer the end by your Maker designed.
+Humble your bloom, but your mission is kind.
+Those will most prize you who knew you the best.
+Cover me o'er when I lie down to rest;
+Cover, likewise, in the marble my name,
+Hiding forever that index of shame;
+But tell to the world, "as life he passed through,
+He covered some scars and aimed to be true."
+
+
+
+
+THE GRANDEST THEME
+
+
+The grandest theme for tongue, or pen,
+ Is not the heavens supernal;
+Nor mighty deeds of God-like men,
+ Though they may be eternal;
+
+Nor Alpine heights, nor lovely vale,
+ With brooks and grazing cattle;
+Nor awful roar of rushing gale,
+ Beyond the noise of battle;
+
+Nor clashing arms, nor trembling earth;
+ Nor heaving waves of ocean;
+Nor record of a nation's birth;
+ Nor heaven's cloud-cars in motion.
+
+The grandest theme, for tongue, or pen,
+ Above all else in glory;
+Which suits alike, all sinful men,
+ Is the sweet Gospel story,
+
+Which tells me of my Saviour's love
+ And infinite compassion,
+Which brought Him from His throne above
+ To Calvary's cross and passion.
+
+And now the holy angels sing,
+ With blood-washed souls in glory,
+A song which makes heaven's arches ring
+ About this Gospel story.
+
+
+
+
+SEPTEMBER
+
+
+The hills are clad in purple and in gold,
+ The ripened maize is gathered in the shock,
+The frost has kissed the nuts, their shells unfold,
+ And fallen leaves are floating on the lock.
+
+The flowers their many-colored petals drop;
+ But seed-pods full and ripe they leave behind,
+A prophecy of more abundant crop,
+ And proof that nature in decay is kind.
+
+But still the dahlia blooms, and pansies, too;
+ The golden-rod still rears its yellow crest.
+The sumach bobs are now of crimson hue,
+ The luscious grape has donned its purple vest.
+
+The forest trees, so long arrayed in green,
+ Wear now a robe like Joseph's coat of old,
+Brighter than that on eastern satrap seen,
+ Tho' clad was he in purple and fine gold.
+
+The woodbine twined about the giant oak
+ Blends with its purple-red a brighter shade.
+Co-mingled thus our praises they evoke,
+ Tho' we know well this glory soon must fade.
+
+The fields are green with grass and new-sown wheat,
+ Tho' here and there a brown stalk may appear,
+A dying rag-weed, ripened by the heat,
+ To reproduce an hundred-fold next year.
+
+The melon yellows in the kindly sun,
+ The peach puts on its blush like virtuous maid,
+The gourd its snow-white band like brow of nun,
+ While flower and gum the air with fragrance lade.
+
+The swallows gather on the fence and wire,
+ Chatter a loud farewell to barn and nest,
+And then on wings which never seem to tire
+ They fly away in southern bowers to rest.
+
+The thrush no longer sings its tender song
+ In osage thicket, or in locust hedge,
+But pipes its notes the negro boys among,
+ On cotton plant, or Alabama sedge.
+
+The blackbird lingers by the flowing brook,
+ Or perches proudly on the shock of corn;
+The lark still hovers round its meadow nook,
+ And soars and sings as on a vernal morn.
+
+The robin, too, is loth to quit the lawn
+ And visits yet his nest beneath the eaves;
+I hear his cheering notes at early dawn--
+ To part with these old friends my spirit grieves.
+
+But soon these feathered songsters must away,
+ Ere winter's frosts shall chill them thro' and thro';
+In other lands they find the summer day,
+ The opening flower, and the refreshing dew.
+
+The air, tho' chill, is not surcharged with death,
+ But health-inspiring germs it bears along.
+We drink in vigor with our every breath,
+ And life appears like spring, each day a song.
+
+God spreads a carpet for our weary feet,
+ Richer than those which grace the palace floor;
+The rainbow hues are in it all complete,
+ And tints, I think, of full a thousand more.
+
+God with His hands of wind for woof collects
+ The forest leaves, and weaves them with the grass,
+With nap of richest hues the fabric decks,
+ And spreads it out for feet of every class.
+
+A haze at times may veil the smiling sky,
+ The sun his golden locks exchange for gray;
+But soon a western blast comes sweeping by--
+ The mists depart, and glory crowns the day.
+
+The lowing cattle roam from field to field;
+ No more content in narrow bounds to stay;
+The ozone in the autumn air has healed
+ Their every ill, and lo, the dull beasts play.
+
+This season has its lesson each should learn--
+ The fading leaf reminds us of our doom;
+But whether like the stately tree, or fern,
+ In hope we travel onward to the tomb.
+
+We look not for the Winter, but the Spring,
+ When we shall glow in beauty from the skies;
+Each now his tribute sheaf of praise should bring,
+ Then hear his Lord's "Well done!" O glorious prize.
+
+
+
+
+THE FLOWERS
+
+
+Some flowers are brighter far in hue
+ Than others by their side,
+But God baptizes all with dew,
+ And spreads His mantle wide
+To cover all for half the day,
+ From rays of scorching sun,
+Though some may shine in colors gay,
+ And some in sober dun.
+
+And I account each one my friend,
+ The stately and the plain.
+Diverse their hue, but not their end;
+ For me none bloom in vain;
+For all proclaim their Maker's skill,
+ And point to bloom above;
+In God's great plan their part fulfil,
+ And whisper "God is _love_."
+
+The fragrance lades the summer air
+ With health-inspiring germs,
+Ascend on high as nature's prayer,
+ Suggesting well the terms
+Of God-accepted prayer from man,
+ Odors of grateful praise;
+For though in penitence began,
+ It ends in joyful lays.
+
+
+
+
+THE BUD
+
+
+The winter through I lay asleep,
+ Unconscious and unseen;
+The howling winds disturbed me not,
+ Nor felt the frost tho' keen.
+Thick blankets covered me about,
+ And kept me dry and warm,
+And weeks and months passed quickly by
+ And I received no harm.
+At last I felt uneasy in
+ My cosy little cot,
+Tho' it was lined with softest down.
+ The cause I knew not what.
+I struggled hard to free myself,
+ But struggled all in vain;
+My blankets felt the strain, 'tis true,
+ And opened to the rain,
+But just enough for me to see
+ The frowning sky o'erhead;
+I closed my eyes, in sad affright,
+ And wished that I was dead.
+
+But soon a change came o'er my frame,
+ Much like electric shock;
+Oh, how I longed for some rare key
+ With which I might unlock
+My prison door, for I now felt
+ The breath of coming Spring,
+And heard, likewise, her merry laugh,
+ Like silver bells its ring.
+My lips were close to blanket rent,
+ I ceased my useless strife,
+And she bent over me in love,
+ And kissed me into life.
+
+
+
+
+BEAUTIFUL SKY
+
+
+O beautiful sky of every hue;
+Golden and purple, crimson and blue,
+With some sombre lines thrown in between,
+And some bright spots of emerald green.
+ The earth is wed to the sun it seems,
+And to grace the robe of his royal bride
+No pains are spared, nor a tint untried,
+ And thus complete it with glory gleams.
+
+He wields his brush as an artist now;
+Lo beauty glows on the earth's fair brow!
+And the lovely flowers at once arise
+To match the glow of the radiant skies,
+ The sparkling dewdrops at morn are seen,
+Close nestling among the petals rare,
+Like crystal studs in a maiden's hair,
+ Brighter then gems which adorn a queen.
+
+
+
+
+BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES
+
+
+Buttercups and daisies growing everywhere,
+In the field of clover, on the hillside fair,
+And in lovely valley, tilled with greatest care.
+
+Naught but weeds and rubbish, in the farmer's eyes,
+Drawing off the nurture from the grain they prize,
+And their great luxuriance sore their patience tries.
+
+But the dews of heaven give them richest bloom,
+And their smiling beauty drives away our gloom;
+For such little beauties surely there is room.
+
+In this world of sorrow flowers ne'er bloom in vain,
+Though they in their blooming sap the golden grain,
+And drink in the moisture of the latter rain;
+
+For our Heavenly Father deemed it wise and good
+To diffuse this beauty with the grain for food.
+And this wise arrangement He has never rued.
+
+Teaching us this lesson we are slow to learn;
+Man lives not for eating, nor for duties stern,
+But to serve God's pleasure, then to Him return.
+
+Room for joy is given and for purest bliss,
+And we may all find them in a world like this,
+If our aims are sordid all this gold we miss;
+
+But if we are faithful and to God inclined,
+Seeing Him in nature, and of heavenly mind,
+Aiming to be like Him, and by grace refined,
+
+We shall live forever where there is no gloom;
+Though the path to glory leadeth through the tomb;
+But a moment's darkness--flowers that ever bloom.
+
+
+
+
+THE MOSS ROSE
+
+
+'Tis said, long since an angel came to earth,
+ Sent by his Lord, to help with loving hand
+A suffering one, afflicted from his birth.
+ The limb was healed as by divine command,
+But He felt weak, for strength from Him had gone,
+ A sacrifice which love could not withhold;
+So he sought shelter till the morning dawn,
+ But none received--they prized not love, but gold.
+
+Then 'neath a rose bush did the angel lie,
+ And rested well until the break of day,
+When much refreshed he sought his home on high,
+ But ere he started on his upward way,
+He said to sheltering rose, in loving voice,
+ "What man refused thou hast afforded me.
+What is thy wish? Make known to me thy choice;
+ The God of love and power will grant it thee!"
+
+"I ask no brighter hue," the rose replied,
+ "Both old and young smile on me as they pass,
+My buds adorn the bosom of the bride,
+ And hide among the locks of lovely lass;
+With fragrance, too, I own myself content,
+ For naught on earth surpasses me in this;
+But if, indeed, my Maker thee has sent
+ I ask but this, to consummate my bliss:
+
+"I feel the cold, both in my bark and bud,
+ When Autumn winds sweep o'er the western hill,
+And frozen dewdrops oft my branches stud,
+ Which mar my beauty and my juices chill.
+Give me an extra garb, 'tis all I lack."
+ "Thou hast thy wish, I shelter found in thee,
+I take delight in kind to pay thee back.
+ Let softest moss thy extra garment be."
+
+Then touched the angel bark, and bud, and leaf,
+ And soft green moss suffused it o'er and o'er.
+He lingered near it for a moment brief,
+ Plucked off a bud, which he to heaven bore;
+And now the rose smiles at the raging storm,
+ Defies the wind and nipping frost as well;
+Its fragrance still retains, and lovely form,
+ While nestling budlets this old story tell.
+
+
+
+
+GOD'S CARE
+
+
+I fear not, my Father, the tempest's loud roar,
+Nor dread the huge breakers on the rock-girded shore;
+Thy presence is with me, my refuge is near,
+With help all-sufficient; oh, why should I fear?
+Tho' billows of sorrow should roll o'er my head,
+My sun sink in darkness, and joys be all dead,
+Thy presence will cheer me, and spectres will flee,
+For who can molest me while trusting in thee?
+
+
+
+
+MY LOT
+
+
+My lot on earth is not all mirth,
+ Nor is it constant gloom;
+Some joys decay and fall away,
+ But leave much lasting bloom.
+My wishes are not always met,
+ And cares press hard at times;
+Yet joyous strains ne'er sink to fret,
+ Tho' dollars shrink to dimes.
+
+My earthly lot boasts not a cot,
+ No foot of land I own,
+No bank account nor phosphate mount,
+ Nor credit for a loan;
+But I can read my title clear
+ To mansion, robe, and crown;
+I couple these with lot down here,
+ And sing, tho' foes may frown.
+
+
+
+
+GOD'S FOOT ON THE CRADLE
+
+
+The air is chill with the frost of doubt,
+ And men's hearts are sadly failing;
+They do not hear the great Victor's shout;
+ But indulge in bitter wailing.
+"The old gives place to the new," they say,
+ "And fond hopes are daily buried;
+Our cherished views are oft borne away,
+ As if by the tempest hurried.
+
+"The world is stirred to its very heart,
+ And the Church shares the commotion;
+With systems old, we are loathe to part,
+ To sail on an unknown ocean.
+The world now heaves like the great sea's breast,
+ And rocks like an infant's cradle;
+And looking up, by sore grief oppressed,
+ We find the sky draped in sable."
+
+I will not fear, though the earth should rock,
+ If God's foot be on the cradle;
+But rest in peace midst the tempest's shock,
+ Rejoicing that God is able
+To still the world with His mighty hand,
+ If His timid child should waken;
+Or, if it rock, He will by me stand;
+ And my heart shall not be shaken.
+
+
+
+
+GOD'S GIFTS TO BE ENJOYED
+
+
+From God's all bounteous hand descend
+ Rare gifts in rich effusion,
+And with those gifts no poisons blend,
+ Nor is their end delusion;
+So do not spurn if He bestow
+ Those forms arrayed in beauty;
+If thus His gifts with radiance glow,
+ Enjoyment is a duty.
+
+Come, deck your brows with leaves and flowers,
+ Ye fair ones, nothing fearing;
+Adorn your homes and train your bowers
+ Nor deem this sin's appearing;
+We do not fit ourselves for bliss
+ By scorning all adorning;
+We may enjoy the good of this
+ And share heaven's brighter morning.
+
+A garment plain may have its stain,
+ And saintly brows lack sweetness;
+But he who would heaven's glory gain
+ Must here acquire a meetness;
+So eat and drink, rejoice and sing,
+ But don't forget the ending;
+The bells of earth more sweetly ring
+ If we are heavenward tending.
+
+The world we use, but not abuse,
+ If we enjoy its beauty;
+And they who all its joys refuse
+ Miss privilege and duty.
+Then prize earth's joys, but prize much more
+ The bloom beyond the river;
+God's gifts enjoy, but e'er adore
+ The ever blessed Giver.
+
+
+
+
+THE HIGHEST GOAL
+
+
+The highest goal is not success,
+ If that be made the aim;
+But faithfulness, tho' counted less,
+Is what God promises to bless:
+ These goals are not the same.
+
+And if I am to do my best
+ In every line of life,
+My effort will be surely blest,
+And I will find in toil sweet rest,
+ Tho' in a world of strife.
+
+And when before the throne I stand
+ To answer for the use
+Of gifts received from God's own hand,
+He will not then, in wrath, demand
+ From me some strong excuse,
+
+To show why I had not attained
+ The goal of grand success,
+Such as some noted men have gained,
+For if my work is not sin-stained
+ God will my failures bless.
+
+And I will hear Him say, "My son,
+ A throne thou hast attained;
+Without applause thy race was run,
+'Midst failures oft thy work was done,
+ _Life's highest goal is gained_."
+
+
+
+
+JOY IN THE MORNING
+
+
+The night of affliction, with its long hours of sadness,
+ Will soon pass away to be remembered no more;
+And the weeping will end in a morning of gladness;
+ For no sorrow is known on the evergreen shore.
+
+In this world we shall have tribulation and sorrow;
+ 'Tis enough for the subject to be as his king;
+But if we are faithful, joy will come with the morrow,
+ And with the blood-washed a new song shall we sing.
+
+
+
+
+"HE SHALL DWELL ON HIGH"
+
+(Isaiah 33:16)
+
+
+Tossed about in strange commotion
+Like the surface of the ocean
+When the wind, its waters lashing,
+Sends great billows, roaring, dashing
+O'er the breakers, which for ages
+Have withstood the storms it wages,
+See those clouds, so like this ocean,
+How they whirl in strange commotion.
+
+Dust and vapor now are meeting,
+Each the other wildly greeting;
+As one hand another grasping,
+So are these each other clasping;
+Now they whirl in form fantastic
+And great trees with boughs elastic
+With loud moans are lowly bending,
+Leaves and fruit to earth descending.
+
+Eyes 'most blinded, nerves all shaken,
+By this fearful storm o'ertaken,
+As it swept on toward the sunrise;
+Yet, I chanced to lift my dim eyes
+Upward, when, O sight entrancing,
+I beheld, to west advancing,
+Other clouds, in higher current,
+Unlike earth's, so wild and errant.
+
+Far above the wild commotion,
+Like great ships on peaceful ocean,
+Floating westward, grand and steady,
+Were those clouds, as if made ready,
+As great cars, with grand pavilions,
+To convey the ransomed millions
+From this earth where storms are raging
+To that land of charms engaging.
+
+Life on earth is a probation;
+Storms fit well in this relation;
+Yet, above, are peaceful regions,
+Where ne'er come hell's dreaded legions.
+Looking toward the things eternal,
+We may rise to realms supernal,
+Where earth's dust will not defile us
+Nor the cunning foe beguile us.
+
+To this higher plain, O lift me,
+Gracious Lord! ere Satan sift me,
+Far above this noisy Babel;
+Far above earth's clouds, all sable;
+Up so far no darts can reach me,
+Where the Holy Ghost will teach me;
+And, in perfect peace abiding,
+I will sing while heavenward riding!
+
+
+
+
+BAG YOUR GAME
+
+
+Two men, well versed in use of arms,
+ Set out, 'tis said, in search of game.
+Each felt that hunting had its charms,
+ Yet widely differed they in aim.
+Both felt their need of wholesome food
+ For present use and winter's store;
+But one was of a careless mood--
+ Than the day's sport he asked no more.
+
+No game he bagged from morn till night,
+ Content to show his master skill
+In hitting every bird at sight,
+ And shooting down the deer at will.
+Grand sport he deemed it, day by day,
+ As in the tangled forest brake
+He brought the bounding stag to bay,
+ Or shot the wood-duck in the lake.
+
+As he each night to home returned
+ He sang the pleasure of the chase;
+But had not yet the lesson learned
+ That he was loser in the race.
+Yet, when sat in the winter's cold
+ And game had fled to warmer clime,
+He had no stock to sell for gold,
+ Nor food: and past his harvest time.
+
+The chase the other prized as well;
+ But bagged his game as best he could,
+And thus had lots of pelts to sell--
+ For self and wife the choicest food.
+In the pursuit of game a thrill
+ Of keenest joy shot through his heart;
+But joy complete he knew not till
+ He went his way joy to impart.
+
+While he with wife and children shared
+ The roasted duck and venison,
+He felt he as a king had fared;
+ And though of earth a denizen,
+Such food would give both strength and cheer
+ To meet lifes daily toil aright,
+And winter months he did not fear,
+ His larder filled, and prospect bright.
+
+The search for Truth with pleasure thrills;
+ To find it, we our end attain--
+Possessed, new joy the spirit fills,
+ And to retain is highest gain.
+The pleasure of pursuit is lost
+ If truth itself is not secured.
+O buy the truth at any cost,
+ And from your aim be not allured!
+
+
+
+
+OTHERS' BURDENS
+
+
+My greatest grief is not my own;
+ That often proves a blessing,
+For in my grief God's care is shown,
+And as I am not left alone,
+ It never proves distressing;
+
+But when my brother's grief I bear
+ The weight then seems excessive;
+His heavy load I inly share,
+And loaded down by double care,
+ My burden feels oppressive.
+
+Yet I remember Him who bore
+ The world's great load of sorrow,
+And know that He on me will pour
+The needed grace to bear the more,
+ To-day and on the morrow.
+
+
+
+
+MEMORY
+
+
+Remembrance of the past will joy impart
+ If in that past the conscience was supreme;
+But if the soul be made an auction mart,
+ And thoughts and deeds be sold for what you deem
+The price of virtue, then the called-up past
+Will be like hooks of steel to hold thee fast.
+
+Or like the stings those nettles left behind
+ Which I so fondly handled in my play;
+I deemed the friend who warned me true and kind,
+ And in great haste I threw the weeds away,
+But soon the burning flesh reminded me
+'Twere safer far from all such weeds to flee.
+
+The cloud that flitted o'er the saintly brow
+ Which now a crown of life so well adorns,
+When you by ways and means you know not now,
+ Did what your soul with holy horror scorns,
+Will stay with you long as you live on earth,
+And be like gall to spoil your cup of mirth.
+
+The smiles of those we bless are lasting, too;
+ We feel their cheering glow each cloudy day.
+As falls on wilted flower the healing dew,
+ So they refresh, and chase our gloom away;
+We feel though weak we have not lived in vain,
+And know God smiles tho' we cannot explain.
+
+The footprints on the rock time wears away;
+ The rock itself soon crumbles into dust;
+But memories of the past have come to stay,
+ Nor flood, nor fire, nor the consuming rust,
+Can ever from the soul the past erase.
+Guard thou thy life, O man, with heavenly grace.
+
+
+
+
+THE ROYAL WAY
+
+
+Perfection ever is the price of toil.
+ Of marchings long, and hardships by the way,
+ Of burdens borne, oft in the heat of day,
+'Tis then as right the victor claims the spoil.
+
+The world admires the wreath upon his brow,
+ But he alone can tell how much it cost,
+ And how to gain it he had all things lost.
+Results men see, but not the _when_, or _how_.
+
+The stately elm which rears its head so high,
+ And spreads abroad so gracefully its boughs,
+ Beneath which may repose a herd of cows,
+Grows under ground as well as toward the sky.
+
+The bridge which spans the swiftly-flowing stream
+ O'er which the iron horse, by night and day,
+ With heavy tread speeds on its busy way,
+Rests not on sand, nor slender post and beam.
+
+Below the shifting sand, on solid rock,
+ The mason safely laid the buttress stone,
+ And labored long before his work was shown;
+But he built well--his work endures each shock.
+
+This work takes time; we chafe at the delay
+ And try to gain the summit at a bound,
+ But find full soon our hopes dashed to the ground;
+Yet there remains for all the _royal way_.
+
+And he who would true eminence attain
+ Must heed the word of Him who came to serve,
+ Nor from this path a single moment swerve,
+If he the great reward would surely gain.
+
+This is the royal way--_to serve in love_--
+ Servant to servants ever aim to be
+ Like Him who gave His life to ransom thee;
+Then shalt thou sit with Him on throne above.
+
+
+
+
+'STABLISHED
+
+
+The well-built house with walls of brick, or stone,
+May tremble some if struck by the cyclone;
+The most established saint may trials feel,
+As flint may turn the edge of finest steel.
+Satanic hosts may rush in like a flood,
+Allied with foes of our own flesh and blood,
+The elements of earth and hell combine,
+Yet tho' he trembles, stands in strength divine;
+He rests secure on the unyielding rock.
+The top may sway, but base feels not the shock;
+His heart is fixed, nor earth nor hell can move;
+They wrench not loose, but his allegiance prove.
+Christ wept with Mary at her brother's grave;
+Laid down His life a rebel world to save;
+Tried, like ourselves, and like us too, infirm,
+Yet knew no sin in either root or germ;
+Let us be like Him while we sojourn here,
+Then storms and earthquakes we need never fear.
+
+
+
+
+A MEROGNOSTIC
+
+
+I know in part, but know not all,
+ The part I know is known;
+What know I not I hope with Paul
+ To know before the throne.
+Till then where knowledge fails I trust
+ The truth God has revealed,
+As known by me, forever must
+ Be like the truth concealed.
+
+I know God _is_, tho' hid from sight,
+ And know He cares for me;
+In blessing me He takes delight,
+ And I by faith can see
+His skilful hand and loving heart,
+ In all my life's affairs,
+And feel content to know but part
+ If He knows all my cares.
+
+I know God gave His Son to die
+ A sacrifice for man,
+And live all who on Him rely,
+ And meet His claims I can,
+Yet I know not how in Him meet
+ The human and divine;
+But God He is, and at His feet
+ I fall, and feel Him mine.
+
+Nor do I understand the change
+ The spirit wrought in me;
+A work so great exceeds my range,
+ But I can feel and see
+The inward peace, and outward trend,
+ And hear likewise His voice,
+The outward with the inward blend,
+ And answer to my choice.
+
+I know not how mind touches mind
+ And thoughts spring into life;
+Nor know the mystic bands which bind,
+ Like husband to the wife,
+My loving Lord and my poor soul,
+ But this I know full well,
+If I submit to His control
+ I cannot sink to hell.
+
+I know the world shakes to its base,
+ And man still wars with man,
+The bane of sin rests on our race,
+ And Satan leads the van;
+But hope exults within my breast
+ Tho 'darkness shrouds the sky;
+God is the friend of the oppressed,
+ The good will never die.
+
+I know not why my plans should fail
+ When I have plan'd for God,
+And on this ground my foes assail,
+ But I still kiss the rod,
+For tho' I cannot tell the why
+ My heart is filled with peace;
+I can on my dear Lord rely,
+ And wait for my release.
+
+I know He is both true and kind,
+ And has my good at heart.
+His discipline will only bind
+ With cords which naught can part,
+My heart's affections to His throne,
+ And fit me for my rest,
+Nor do I tread life's path alone;
+ _He knows_, and I am blest.
+
+
+
+
+"SALUT AUX BLESSIS"
+
+
+A group of mounted officers
+ Ride up and fall in line;
+Their gleaming swords hang at their sides,
+ Chevrons their arms entwine;
+They bare their heads as pass along
+ A train of wounded men,
+Their shattered comrades from the field
+ They ne'er may meet again.
+
+"_Salut aux Blessis!_" loud they cry.
+ The wounded soldiers hear,
+And for a time forget their pain,
+ And swell the lusty cheer.
+Thus should it be in other lines;
+ The men who lead the van
+Should e'er accord a brother's cheer
+ To every wounded man.
+
+The "rank and file" the wounds receive;
+ Sometimes the leader, too;
+But honest wounds none should despise;
+ The bearer may be true.
+He stood his ground 'gainst mighty odds,
+ And dared the shot and shell;
+So bare your heads, ye scarless ones,
+ And say, "_Thou hast done well!_"
+
+
+
+
+SONNET
+
+
+Each human life with mysteries is replete;
+ They press upon us in its early dawn,
+ And multiply apace as years roll on,
+And at each turn we must their problems meet.
+Reason is blind, and fails their end to see,
+ Misjudges God and gathers only woe,
+ And from this spring much turbid waters flow.
+Only the pure in heart from doubt are free;
+They read aright the writing on the wall
+ Which solves the problems of our earthly lot;
+ To them God draws aside the veil, and shows
+ The golden threads with which the garment glows,
+ And why one dwells in palace, one in cot,
+And how His love is working good to all.
+
+
+
+
+BROTHERHOOD
+
+
+Is brotherhood to flesh confined?
+ Is there no kinship of the soul?
+To have it thus, I am resigned,
+ If 'tis my God-appointed goal;
+For there are those whom I hold dear,
+ Who claim with me a common sire,
+That we, with one accord, revere,
+ And love holds out midst flood and fire.
+
+But is the family so small
+ Of which I fondly claim a part?
+Is there no other I may call
+ A brother, and within my heart
+Cherish for him, whate'er his name,
+ Or rank, or color, or his creed,
+A love of pure and changeless flame,
+ And feel I render but his meed?
+
+Thank God for brotherhood so broad
+ That all the human race may share
+A kinship, never yet outlawed,
+ Tho' types of it have been too rare.
+But bigotry is doomed to die,
+ And hate, a relic of the past;
+The golden age is drawing nigh,
+ And all one family at last!
+
+
+
+
+SHE DEARLY LOVED THE FLOWERS
+
+
+I saw her first when she was old,
+ Her form devoid of grace;
+Her locks that once were yellow gold
+ Were white, and on her face
+Were furrows deep, which told of pain,
+ And toil, and worldly fret,
+Which all, alas, had been in vain,
+ But nature claimed the debt.
+
+Her eyes were gray and lacked in glow,
+ Her voice some thought was gruff,
+And when excited was not slow
+ To use a sharp rebuff;
+For she in speech was free from art;
+ Men feared her verbal stroke,
+And yet they said, "She has a heart;
+ She never wears a cloak."
+
+Her creed, perhaps, was heterodox,
+ If creed she ever had.
+She knew far more of pans and crocks,
+ But this was not her fad;
+Her light, I fear, did not shine out
+ In pious talk and airs,
+In fact I entertain a doubt
+ If she oft said her prayers.
+
+Her light, if dim, was never hid,
+ Yet looked not for applause;
+For kindly deeds she often did,
+ In line with highest laws.
+She lacked it may be that rare grace
+ Which some I know endowers,
+Yet good in her I gladly trace--
+ _She dearly loved the flowers._
+
+
+
+
+MY PANSY PETS
+
+
+My pansy pets are sleeping well
+ Beneath their quilt of snow;
+How they can breathe I cannot tell,
+ Nor how their rootlets grow;
+But soon the snow will melt away
+ And April showers descend;
+Then shall appear in colors gay
+ Each little pansy friend.
+
+Of pride it may not show a trace;
+ Of lowly mind, alway;
+But will not blush to show its face
+ All through the lifelong day:
+Its fragrance other flowers surpass,
+ In form more stately, too.
+But when you see my pets in mass,
+ Thank God they ever grew.
+
+For though the human face may frown,
+ Or show a heart of guile,
+My pansy pets as you look down
+ Will look at you and smile;
+Nor will they murmur if you should
+ Pluck off their brightest bloom;
+Their mission is to do us good,
+ And smile away our gloom.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE BETTER THAN KNOWLEDGE
+
+
+O Thou Eternal One, look down
+ Upon an erring child of earth;
+Thy handiwork with knowledge crown,
+ Or life will seem of little worth;
+By Thine own light illume my way,
+And turn this darkness into day.
+
+I hear a whisper in my heart--
+ "Than knowledge, better far is love;
+Thy knowledge here is but in part,
+ The perfect waits for Thee above:
+Walk now by faith, and leave to me
+The things now wrap'd in mystery."
+
+Weighed down with mysteries profound
+ I lean upon Thy loving breast;
+The great unknown still girts me round,
+ But Thou art mine, and here I rest;
+Unsolved the mysteries remain;
+But they no longer give me pain.
+
+My finite mind may never grasp
+ The thought of Thy immensity;
+But I Thy hand more firmly clasp--
+ To feel Thee near suffices me;
+For Thou art knowledge, power, and love,
+The same in earth and heaven above.
+
+
+
+
+A SUFFERING GOD
+
+
+Man is like God in miniature,
+ When he is at his best;
+His motives and impulses pure,
+ His heart and will at rest;
+No conflict in himself is felt,
+ His light no earthly beam,
+While love encircles like a belt,
+ And conscience is supreme.
+
+As thus endowed a creature may
+ The keenest sufferings feel;
+Not such as rack the frame of clay,
+ Which art of man may heal;
+But pain untold at others' woes,
+ And deadly blight of sin,
+Which right and virtue overthrows,
+ And blackens all within.
+
+And may not God have suffered much
+ Ere reached the gory cross?
+Did not our woe the God-heart touch?
+ Did He not feel our loss?
+The "Man of Sorrows" we adore,
+ And own His sufferings real;
+But suffered He as God before;
+ For God can sorrow feel.
+
+
+
+
+THE COPY
+
+
+Looking o'er this written page,
+ Many blurs and blots are seen;
+Crooked strokes, at every stage--
+ Oh, that it again were clean,
+As at first I found it, when
+I defiled it with my pen!
+
+Gladly would I all erase;
+ But along the lines of blue
+You could still the failure trace
+ In the paper's darkened hue;
+Though the words could not be seen,
+You could trace where they had been.
+
+I will try to do my best,
+ Though my ideal be not gained;
+On the Master's scrip shall rest
+ Eager eyes, till is attained
+Some resemblance to His hand;
+If no more I can command.
+
+Like my life, this written sheet,
+ So unlike the pattern given;
+Crooked strokes, I oft repeat;
+ Oh, that from it could be riven
+All the blurs and blots of sin;
+All the self that's found within.
+
+_I_ can not the past erase.
+ _Christ_ shall blot the crooked out,
+Leaving not the slightest trace
+ Of my sin, the lines about;
+And will give me grace to write
+Pages pleasing in His sight.
+
+I will try to do my best,
+ As He gives me strength and light,
+Leaving with Him all the rest;
+ He will keep life's pages white;
+And the copy shall be shown
+Perfected, before His throne.
+
+
+
+
+PERFECT WORK
+
+
+An artist skilled beyond the sons of men
+ With pleasure scanned the pictures on the wall,
+Rare works of art, each one pronounced a gem,
+ The product of his hand, both great and small;
+Each filled its place in the designer's plan;
+Conceived in full before the work began.
+
+Pleased was the artist with results as shown;
+ But his ideal was not as yet attained;
+It needed this, as palace needs a throne,
+ But _throne_ a _king_--then is perfection gained,
+When his great masterpiece hangs in its place,
+And the great artist looks in his own face.
+
+
+
+
+THE JOHNSTOWN DISASTER, 1889
+
+
+Look down, ye Alleghenies, into the Conemaugh vale,
+And see the rising waters, and hear the bitter wail;
+The swollen streams now empty their contents in the lake,
+The waters rise to kiss the skies and walls of granite shake.
+
+Oh, hear that awful booming; the dam has given way!
+An avalanche of water God's hand alone can stay!
+Oh, leap, ye hills, before it and keep this torrent back,
+Or devastated towns and homes will mark its onward track!
+
+Look down, ye Alleghenies, upon this vale of woe;
+Ten thousand corpses at your base their soulless faces show;
+Some hid beneath the debris, some covered o'er with slime,
+Their spirits fled to meet their God, beyond the shores of time.
+The aged sire and lassie; the careworn mother, too,
+With her strong son, whom she had hoped would guard life's journey thro',
+Are lying there together, the old and young alike;
+Their plans and purposes cut off, no power to love or strike.
+
+Bow down, ye Alleghenies, and weep o'er thousands slain,
+Who yesterday were all intent this present world to gain.
+Their active brain is sleeping, their busy hands are still,
+Bright hopes are blasted in an hour, ambitions cease to thrill;
+Their mansions, with their bodies, the flood has borne away--
+The rich and poor together rest till resurrection day.
+
+Now leap for joy, ye mountains, for all is not in vain!
+For as it was in Noah's flood, it ever will remain!
+God cares for those who love Him; He holds them in His hand,
+And wind and wave obey His will, and rest at His command;
+Some sank beneath the freshet, and now with others lie,
+But God prepared another ark to bear their souls on high.
+
+See, floating with the wreckage, borne onward by the tide,
+A loving mother with her babe close sheltered at her side;
+One hand has grasped a rafter, the other guards her child;
+Oh, how she pleads with God and man in accents loud and wild!
+Men hear but give no answer, no human hand can save;
+Her voice, alas, is hushed in death by the relentless wave;
+
+But God has heard her pleading, and now His angel bears
+Their deathless souls to dwell with Him, where free from toils and cares,
+Her voice rings out in gladness the notes of that blest psalm
+The prophet heard the elders sing, of "Moses and the Lamb."
+
+And see this lovely maiden, a mother's hope and pride,
+The sunbeam of a Christian home, and the affianced bride
+Of one who loved her dearly, and loved her not in vain,
+For he had won a loyal heart, and hand without a stain;
+But he lies 'neath the billows, and she will join him soon.
+Hark! hark! she sings in accents sweet, to old familiar tune!
+ "_Jesus, lover of my soul,
+ Let me to Thy bosom fly_," etc.
+
+Her prayer, also, is answered, for see, the roof is bare!
+The current swept the slippery raft, the maiden is not there!
+An angel band descended, her lover led the way,
+And now she joins her loved and lost in realms of endless day!
+
+Look down, ye Alleghenies, from your colossal heights,
+And witness an heroic deed, bright gleam 'midst horrid sights.
+See, _Periton_ has mounted his famous large bay steed,
+And flies, not to the mountains, but at his greatest speed
+He gallops down the valley, to warn of pending fate,
+And cries aloud, "Flee for your lives! flee, ere it be too late!
+The Conemaugh dam is broken, destruction comes apace!
+Leave all and to the mountains flee; leave all and win the race!"
+
+Each creek becomes a river, each pool a little sea,
+The tidal wave comes rushing on, men know not where to flee,
+But on he rides, still shouting, as angels did of old,
+"Flee! Flee ye to the mountain! Flee! forsake your homes and gold!"
+
+His horse now shares his spirit, and leaps each swollen stream.
+With panting flanks and nostrils wide, and breath like scalding steam,
+He dashes down the roadway, and fairly seems to fly,
+Obedient to his rider's rein, resolved to do or die.
+
+Some heed our hero's warning. See, toward the hills they fly!
+Will _Periton_ now turn aside, or like a hero die?
+Straight on he goes, brave fellow; to turn aside he scorned,
+His life he deems of little worth if other men be warned.
+
+We honor those brave soldiers, who scaled the rampart height,
+To plant the standard of their queen in the defence of right,
+The fire was hot before them, and bursting shells o'erhead,
+Yet on they pressed, till bullet-pierced they fell--our honored dead;
+But he, I hold, was braver, who ran his race alone,
+No comrade's cheer to urge him on, no bugle blast was blown,
+Nor grand review to follow if he should win the day;
+But thoughts of self were all too weak his onward course to stay.
+
+Spur up your steed, brave fellow--the flood is at his heels!
+Too late! the waves now gird him round; the gallant rider reels;
+Entombed beneath the debris his warning voice is stilled,
+But he, I trust, ran not in vain; his mission is fulfilled.
+
+Like Jesus, he saved others, yet _would_ not save himself;
+The plaudits of the world sought not, but scorned its praise and pelf.
+He still sat in the saddle, and held the guiding rein,
+Yet wind and wave awoke him not, and thunders roared in vain.
+His spirit had ascended, death set the hero free,
+And God shall say in His great day, "_Thou didst it unto Me!_"
+
+Look down, ye Alleghenies, with ever-darkening frown,
+Upon the selfishness which caused the ruin of Johnstown.
+A reservoir was fashioned, of full three miles in length,
+An inland lake, kept back by dam of insufficient strength;
+No mills were driven by it; no water-works supplied;
+A few rich men, for selfish sport, claimed all these waters wide.
+
+They rode upon its surface in skiff, and bark canoe,
+Shot grouse and duck, caught fish and eel, and held their title true;
+For other people's safety took not a single thought--
+Ten thousand lives were less to them than fish thus daily caught.
+The dam revealed its weakness by frequent leaks, but they
+Turned not aside to strengthen it till came the fateful day;
+But God, who rules the nations, to whom all bow the knee,
+Will say to them on judgment day, "_Ye did it not to Me._"
+
+
+
+
+EYE HATH NOT SEEN
+
+
+Somewhere in the realms supernal
+ Is a home prepared for me,
+Where my joys shall be eternal,
+ And my spirit ever free;
+ Mortal vision helps not here,
+God conceals it from my sight,
+By effulgent beams of light;
+ Oh that He would bring it near!
+
+But I hear a voice say, softly,
+ "Be content to leave it so,
+For God's thoughts are far too lofty
+ For a man like thee to know;
+ Human spirits must be free
+From their tenements of clay,
+Ere they bear that full-orbed day,
+ Bide thy time and thou shalt see."
+
+I cannot draw back the curtain
+ That conceals the glory land,
+Yet my hope is sure and certain,
+ For the tracings of God's hand
+ On the outside do appear,
+Like the cherubim of old,
+Wrought in needle-work and gold,
+ Bringing all the glory near.
+
+He who made the lovely flowers
+ Which adorn both shrub and tree,
+Climbing vine, and shady bowers,
+ In this beauty speaks to me:
+ 'Tis the curtain of His tent,
+Hiding much, yet much reveals,
+Type of the Elysian fields;
+ Glory streams thro' woof and rent.
+
+
+
+
+WHAT LASTS?
+
+
+The words we speak on the empty air,
+Are never lost, but recorded there;
+The process we may not comprehend,
+Nor how the words with the air may blend,
+But science shows what results may be;
+Accept the fact, is enough for me.
+
+The waves of sound may have died away
+As ripples faint on a sheltered bay;
+But though now faint will be heard again,
+By God, ourselves, and the sons of men.
+As sound e'en now may be multiplied;
+The faintest moan like the roaring tide;
+The housefly's tread with its tiny feet
+Like tramp of horse on the stone-paved street.
+
+So, though now faint, will those voices be,
+When Christ shall come in His majesty;
+Our quicken'd sense will the echo hear,
+Like blast of horn to the timid deer.
+
+In pleasant tones will the echoes be,
+Of words of love and of happy glee,
+Which we address to the friends we love,
+Or offer up to our Lord above.
+
+But, unlike those, all the echoes heard,
+Of angry tones, and each sword-like word;
+As we here mete to our fellow men,
+The Judge shall mete in full measure then.
+
+The thoughts we think may be lasting, too,
+Though not inscribed on the azure blue;
+On the tissued walls of the soul's great dome,
+May be found those thoughts ne'er more to roam.
+And like our thoughts, may we not become
+The thought we think, be ourselves the sum?
+May thoughts of God on my heart be graved,
+And I be known as a _sinner saved_.
+
+
+
+
+IS THERE A BRIGHTER WORLD?
+
+
+Beneath the surface of a shallow lake,
+ Where grasses rank and mammoth rushes grow,
+And playful fish their bright fins nimbly shake,
+ Or madly chase each other to and fro,
+The larva of the dragon-fly submerged,
+ In family large, had taken their abode,
+And tho' the waves around them daily surged,
+ Upon the bending grass they safely rode.
+
+Content were they with life as there enjoyed;
+ To brighter world they never had aspired,
+Had they not felt unfilled an aching void,
+ And heard a whisper of a life attired
+In sapphire robes, 'midst gleams of golden light,
+ Above their present world, so dank and chill,
+Where all day long they wing their happy flight
+ From roses sweet to lovely daffodil.
+
+But some essayed to doubt if it were so.
+ Who ever had returned to make it known?
+One volunteered that he would upward go,
+ To bring report; but he was not full grown,
+And fainted when he reached the surface air,
+ And falling, round a reed his form he curled,
+Then cried, "Delusion! I have been up there.
+ And could not find a trace of brighter world."
+
+Yet others could not still the voice within,
+ Nor disregard tradition's hopeful tale.
+They called a council; but it caused some din,
+ And all their efforts seemed at first to fail,
+Till one wise head suggested this compact,
+ Expressed, no doubt, in dragon larva lore;
+That if that brighter life were actual fact,
+ And all who rose in golden sunshine soar,
+
+Each must return to tell the joyful tale,
+ And o'er the waters shake his sapphire wings,
+So all may see, and their bright comrade hail,
+ And talk about the tidings which he brings.
+Now each returns, clad in his bright array;
+ Skims o'er the grassy lake with gauze-like wings,
+Attracts their notice by his plumage gay,
+ And they collect to hear the news he brings.
+
+Then, holding fast, he buzzes out his song,
+ And seeks to woo them to a brighter world.
+And he succeeds; for see, the larva strong
+ Climb up the grass, and soon in light enfurled,
+They wait the growth of wings, then burst their shells,
+ Shake loose the gauzy folds, and soar away;
+But soon come back again their joy to tell,
+ And help their brothers to a brighter day.
+
+Perhaps our loved ones do not always stay
+ In far-off heaven, and leave their comrades lone;
+Tho' yet unseen, may hover round our way,
+ And see our toil, and hear our daily moan;
+And tho' we cannot see their lovely forms,
+ Nor hear full well the whispers of their voice,
+May shield us oft in life's tempestuous storms,
+ And when we victories gain, with us rejoice.
+
+They whisper _thoughts_, perhaps, if not word sounds,
+ And help to waken longings for our rest;
+And thus allure our hearts beyond earth's bounds
+ To joy and home, upon our Saviour's breast.
+
+O may I heed the whispers which they bring,
+ And seek the grace which will my heart prepare
+To climb from earth and take on angel wing,
+ Then soar aloft, to find my home up _there_!
+
+
+
+
+A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN
+
+
+As the caged eagle neared the mountain range,
+ O'er which he oft had soared on pinions strong,
+He clapped his wings, moved by some impulse strange,
+ And then fell dead his prison floor along.
+
+So Moses stood on Pisgah's heights alone,
+ With sight undimmed, and unabated strength;
+He gazed with rapture on the vision shown,
+ Of the fair land in all its breadth and length;
+
+He saw the vale of Eschol clad with vine,
+ Mount Libbanus adorned with lordly trees,
+Gilead and Achor, with their lowing kine,
+ And verdant Sharon swept by the sea breeze;
+
+He saw the spot where Jacob's ladder stood,
+ The oaks at Mamre where their father prayed,
+Saw Bashan with its pastures and its wood,
+ And the rude cave where Abram Sarah laid.
+
+Saw the whole land--its hills and vales and streams,
+ Its lakes and pools, its vineyards and its groves,
+A wealth and glory far beyond his dreams;
+ Better, it seemed, than all earth's treasure troves.
+
+God then revealed a glimpse of His own face,
+ Which Moses once desired, but God withheld,
+But finished now the God-ordained race,
+ The battle fought, and every passion quelled.
+
+As he beholds the glory of his Lord,
+ And looks within the pearly gates ajar,
+Snaps, in an instant, life's frail brittle cord,
+ And he is where the holy angels are.
+
+So is it, likewise, with most dying saints;
+ They see e'en here the beatific sight;
+The spirit then breaks thro' this world's restraints,
+ And enters into heaven's effulgent light.
+
+Not sorrow snaps the silver cord, but joy;
+ Not woe, but bliss, expands the golden bowl.
+The pitcher breaks when free from earth's alloy,
+ And fails the wheel when heaven has filled the soul.
+
+
+
+
+THE END WE SOUGHT
+
+
+The end we sought is not attained,
+ But wisdom has been won,
+And thus a higher goal is gained.
+_That_ like the moon has sadly waned,
+ While _this_ shines as the sun.
+
+A shorter route to India's strand
+ Columbus failed to find.
+That was an object truly grand,
+But in the wealth of this fair land
+ Grandeur and good combine.
+
+
+
+
+ASPIRATION
+
+
+I stand to-day on higher ground
+ Than ever reached before,
+Yet from this summit I have found,
+ Outlined full many more,
+Which seem to pierce the vaulted sky,
+ And prove my effort vain
+But God will set my feet on high,
+ Thro' grace I shall attain.
+
+Yet higher still my ideal stands,
+ Its peak but dimly seen,
+But hope impels, and love commands,
+ And faith discerns its sheen;
+And when I reach its shining height
+ Heaven's gate will open wide;
+I'll see the beatific sight,
+ And rest at Jesus' side.
+
+
+
+
+MY REST
+
+
+I would not cherish a wish or thought
+ Displeasing, Lord, to Thee;
+Thy will is good, and with wisdom fraught,
+ And that suffices me.
+I cannot alter a plan of Thine,
+ And would not if I could;
+I acquiesce in the will divine,
+ And find my highest good.
+
+At times my vessel drifts near the shore,
+ And the beacon lights expire,
+The surf-capped waves swell more and more,
+ And threaten with ruin dire;
+But only the surface sea is rough;
+ The ocean's depths are calm,
+And a star affords me light enough,
+ The Star of Bethlehem.
+
+And by its light I discern the sand
+ And rocks along the coast,
+And turn away toward a fairer land,
+ And standing at my post,
+I guide my bark thro' the tempest wild,
+ Borne on by wind and tide,
+Till God receives His weak, erring child,
+ And shelters near His side.
+
+"Lo, I come, O Lord, to do Thy will!"
+ Shines from my star divine,
+And my heart cries out, "In me fulfill
+ Also, Thy wise design."
+I would not alter a plan of thine
+ If I the power possessed;
+My will is lost in the will divine,
+ 'Tis here I find my rest.
+
+
+
+
+"PAINT ME AS I AM, WARTS AND ALL"--_Cromwell_.
+
+
+Brave soul, 'twere well if all the same would say,
+And artists aim their patron's wish t'obey.
+What signifies a wart, or e'en a scar?
+Leave both, skilled hand, and paint us as we are.
+The crowfeet paint, the wrinkles on the brow,
+The hollow cheek, the form inclined to bow,
+The tear-dim'd eye, the hair well streaked with gray,
+The hardened hand, begrim'd with soot and clay,
+And if you use the seer's revealing glass,
+Remember this, "_All flesh is as the grass._"
+
+
+
+
+"I WAS THERE"
+
+
+When the French soldier from the field returned,
+ Begrimed with smoke and blood, he felt content,
+As from Napoleon he this fact had learned,
+ That thro' his marshall, medals would be sent,
+The name of battlefield each one would bear,
+And, also, in large letters, "_I was there._"
+
+In others' triumphs we may well rejoice,
+ If in their triumphs good to us redounds;
+But in the glory we can have no choice,
+ And our rejoicings are but empty sounds.
+If you would in the victor's glory share,
+Be then prepared to add this, "_I was there!_"
+
+The victor's joy belongs to him alone;
+ He stood his ground 'midst storms of shot and shell;
+Thro' his brave stand the foe has been o'erthrown,
+ And he alone the victor's tale can tell.
+He now lies down to die 'neath glory's glare,
+For he can say to others, "_I was there!_"
+
+Not in some neutral nook must we remain;
+ The battle rages, we must share the strife;
+The world, once lost, we must for Christ regain,
+ And each lay hold upon eternal life.
+Who share His conflicts will His glory share;
+Then looking down to earth say, "_I was there!_"
+
+Those who before the throne are robed in white,
+ Passed thro' the conflict and the foe o'ercame;
+Boldly they stood as champions for the right,
+ And thus have won thro' grace enduring fame,
+And when the roll is called, each will declare,
+"_Here am I, Lord, I fought for Thee down there!_"
+
+
+
+
+TRUE LOVE
+
+
+He loves not much who loves not honor more;
+ If men lack this then love must lack as well;
+ If this possessed no tongue love's depths can tell;
+The heart an ocean filled from shore to shore.
+
+Seeing in him the possibility
+ Of likeness to the great and Blessed One;
+ It may be even now in him begun.
+I love him much for what I hope to be,
+
+And show my love by yielding him his due;
+ For sentimental love is ever vain,
+ It cannot peace, much less heaven's favor gain;
+But those who love in deed are blessed and true.
+
+
+
+
+A TRUE MAN
+
+
+With purpose strong to do or die,
+ The race of life he ran,
+With love supreme to God on high,
+ And equal love to man.
+
+Some flaws the earthen vessel marred,
+ Which all could clearly see;
+Within was found the precious nard;
+ From guile his heart was free.
+
+In motive e'er is found the sin;
+ Let that to God be true,
+And he the Judge's smile will win,
+ And man's approval too.
+
+
+
+
+MY OLD SWEETHEART
+
+
+My old sweetheart is away to-day;
+ I feel as I did of old,
+In my courting days, when far away
+ I yearned for her more than gold.
+
+I thought of her handsome, smiling face,
+ Her noble and cultured brow,
+Of her gentle ways, and charming grace;
+ I missed her less then than now.
+
+Through the long years of our wedded life,
+ Now nearly a full two score,
+She has proved herself a loving wife,
+ And a sweetheart evermore.
+
+Our love has grown with the flight of time,
+ As the mountain stream may grow;
+Or as a tree in a genial clime
+ When free from the frost and snow.
+
+The tempest may madly rage without,
+ We have lasting peace within;
+And confidence ne'er gives place to doubt,
+ Nor concord to noisy din.
+
+She will soon return again to me,
+ From her visit in the West,
+And the dear face that I long to see
+ Will be nestling on my breast.
+
+And I will feel as in olden time,
+ With a love not dreamed of then;
+No happier man in any clime
+ Is known to the sons of men.
+
+And when we part at the silent tomb,
+ 'Twill be but a passing day
+Before we meet where there is no gloom,
+ And sweethearts forever stay.
+
+
+Full forty-six years of wedded life,
+ Enjoyed with my sweetheart here;
+They were happy years, devoid of strife,
+ And full of Christian cheer;
+Then her Master called her spirit home,
+And I am left to walk alone.
+
+Ere long my journey, too, will end,
+ And my spirit to God arise;
+Perhaps he may my sweetheart send
+ To escort me to the skies;
+And there with our Saviour we shall be,
+Yet sweethearts still through eternity.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLEAMS OF SUNSHINE***
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