VOICES OF THE PAST.

OU wonder that my tears should flow
In listening to that simple strain;

That those unskilful sounds should fill

My soul with joy and pain—

How can you tell what thoughts it stirs
Within my heart again?

You wonder why that common phrase,
So all unmeaning to your ear,
Should stay me in my merriest mood,
And thrill my soul to hear-
How can you tell what ancient charm

Has made me hold it dear?

You marvel that I turn away

From all those flowers so fair and bright,

And gaze at this poor herb, till tears

Arise and dim my sight

You cannot tell how every leaf
Breathes of a past delight.

You smile to see me turn and speak With one whose converse you despise, You do not see the dreams of old

That with his voice arise

How can you tell what links have made Him sacred in my eyes?

Oh, these are Voices of the Past,

Links of a broken chain,

Wings that can bear me back to Times

Which cannot come again—

Yet God forbid that I should lose

The echoes that remain !

THE DARK SIDE.

HOU hast done well, perhaps,
To lift the bright disguise,
And lay the bitter truth

Before our shrinking eyes;

When evil crawls below,

What seems so pure and fair,

Thine eyes are keen and true
To find the serpent there:

And yet I turn away,

Thy task is not divine,

The evil angels look

On earth with eyes like thine.

Thou hast done well, perhaps,

To show how closely wound

Dark threads of sin and self

With our best deeds are found,

How great and noble hearts,
Striving for lofty aims,
Have still some earthly cord
A meaner spirit claims;
And yet although thy task
Is well and fairly done,
Methinks for such as thou
There is a holier one.

Shadows there are, who dwell

Among us, yet apart,

Deaf to the claim of God,

Or kindly human heart;

Voices of earth and heaven

Call, but they turn away, And Love, through such black night, Can see no hope of day; And yet our eyes are dim,

And thine are keener far ;

Then gaze till thou canst see
The glimmer of some star.

The black stream flows along
Whose waters we despise-

Show us reflected there

Some fragment of the skies; 'Neath tangled thorns and briars, (The task is fit for thee,) Seek for the hidden flowers,

We are too blind to see; Then will I thy great gift

A crown and blessing call; Angels look thus on men,

And God sees good in all!

A FIRST SORROW.

RISE! this day shall shine,

For evermore,

To thee a star divine

On Time's dark shore.

Till now thy soul has been

All glad and gay:

Bid it awake, and look

At grief to-day!