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From off the dark and rainy sea;
The wind made in the willow-tree.
She died when dropped the earliest leaves;
Yet I am not as one that grieves, —
The bluebird waits for April skies;
And violets hide their azure eyes.
Beside some golden summer's bier, -
EDNA DEAN PROCTOR.
HOW WE LEARN GREAT truths are dearly bought. The common truth,
Such as men give and take from day to day, Comes in the common walks of easy life,
Blown by the careless wind across our way. Bought in the market, at the current price,
Bred of the smile, the jest, perchance the bowl,
Nor pierces even the surface of a soul.
Nor wafted on the breath of summer dream,
Hard buffeting with adverse wind and stream. Not in the general mart, ’mid corn and wine,
Not in the merchandise of gold and gems, Not in the world's gay halls of midnight mirth,
Not ’mid the blaze of regal diadems, But in the day of conflict, fear, and grief,
When the strong hand of God, put forth in might,
Ploughs up the subsoil of the stagnant heart,
And brings the imprisoned truth-seed to the light. Wrung from the troubled spirit in hard hours
Of weakness, solitude, perchance of pain, Truth springs, like harvest, from the well-ploughed field, And the soul feels it has not wept in vain.
REAPER OF LIFE'S HARVEST
Why stand with rusted blade
And the day begins to fade ?
For reapers more to come ?
Why sit ye silent, dumb ?
And gather in the grain :
And noon will come again.
And shall He call in vain ?
And waste upon the plain ?
And crush each error low;
That human hearts should know.
In service of thy Lord,
MEMORIAL HYMN.- J. A. GARFIELD
Now all ye flowers make room ;
Sighing and weeping.
We leave him sleeping.
Soft may his body rest
'Mid blinding tears;
Untouched by passion, freed from pain, -
Took to Himself the ripened grain. O noble face! your beauty bears
The glory that is wrung from pain,The high, celestial beauty wears
Of finished work, of ripened grain.
No lightest trace of grief or pain, —
DORA READ GOODALE.
Earth-sadness and sea-bitterness.
Nor barren wilderness.
And all earth's gardens and her graves.
CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI.
ALL IS WELL
Be sundered in the night of fear;
Oh, yet we trust that somehow good
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
That not one life shall be destroyed,
Or cast as rubbish to the void,
That not a moth with vain desire
Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain. Behold! we know not anything;
I can but trust that good shall fall
At last — far off — at last, to all, And every winter change to spring.
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON (In Memoriam).
PARTED FRIENDS FRIEND after friend departs;
Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts
That finds not here an end ! Were this frail world our final rest, Living or dying, none were blest. Beyond the flight of time —
Beyond the reign of death -
Where life is not a breath;
Where parting is unknown !
Formed for the good alone ;
Till all are passed away;
As morning high and higher shines
To pure and perfect day;
PEACE PEACE, troubled heart ! the way 's not long before thee,
Lay down thy burden ; say to sorrow, cease; Be yon soft azure hand serenely o'er thee,
The blue, bright border to God's sphere of peace. Peace, troubled heart ! the hasty word may fret thee,
The cruel word may coldly probe and pierce; The Christ who suffered, loves thee, never leaves thee,
He pours His balm upon the fever fierce. Peace, troubled heart ! though marred thy best behavior,
To thy deep longing, thine aspiring cry, Listens thy Heavenly Kinsman, thy dear Savior
Healeth thy life-hurt, wipeth thy tears dry. Peace, lonely heart! Be patient. Thou 'lt see, waiting,
How perfect sympathy and love may meet;
Wilt melt at last to love divine, complete.
Back from the chalice ! Saints and martyrs' meed, The chrism of suffering. Earthward, poor souls sinking,
Yearn for the heavenly joy, through human necd. Peace, troubled heart ! see yon strong ships all sailing
Through sun and storm, on to the solemn sea; Through summer calms, through wintry tempest quailing
Thus sailest thou, out to Infinity
Mid Isles of Paradise, in airs of balm,
Thou 'lt gain at last the everlasting calm.
Rest in the marvellous sunshine of the sky; Watch the bees sail and sing in sunny leisure;
List the waves laughing as they loiter by. Peace, troubled heart ! if minor notes of sadness
Tremble through Nature's voices, every sigh Quickens the anthem of her mightier gladness,
Foretells fruition perfect by and by.