Other and brighter days,
Perhaps she brings;

Deeper and holier songs,
Perchance she sings;

But thou and I fair time,

We two must sever

O dream of mine,

Farewell for ever!

SOWING AND REAPING.

OW with a generous hand;

Pause not for toil or pain;

Weary not through the heat of summer,

Weary not through the cold spring rain; But wait till the autumn comes

For the sheaves of golden grain.

Scatter the seed, and fear not,
A table will be spread;

What matter if you are too weary

To eat your hard-earned bread : Sow, while the earth is broken, For the hungry must be fed.

Sow ;-while the seeds are lying
In the warm earth's bosom deep,
And your warm tears fall upon it-
They will stir in their quiet sleep;
And the green blades rise the quicker,
Perchance, for the tears you weep.

Then sow; for the hours are fleeting,
And the seed must fall to-day;

And care not what hands shall reap it,
Or if you shall have passed away
Before the waving corn-fields

Shall gladden the sunny day.

Sow; and look onward, upward,

Where the starry light appearsWhere, in spite of the coward's doubting, Or your own heart's trembling fears, You shall reap in joy the harvest

You have sown to-day in tears.

THE STORM.

HE tempest rages wild and high,
The waves lift up their voice and cry
Fierce answers to the angry sky,—

Miserere Domine.

Through the black night and driving rain,

A ship is struggling, all in vain

To live upon the stormy main ;

Miserere Domine.

The thunders roar, the lightnings glare,
Vain is it now to strive or dare;

A cry goes up of great despair,

Miserere Domine.

The stormy voices of the main,
The moaning wind, and pelting rain
Beat on the nursery window pane :-

Miserere Domine.

Warm curtained was the little bed,

Soft pillowed was the little head;

"The storm will wake the child," they said :

Miserere Domine.

Cowering among his pillows white

He prays, his blue eyes dim with fright,

66

Father, save those at sea to-night !”

Miserere Domine.

The morning shone all clear and gay,
On a ship at anchor in the bay,
And on a little child at play,-

Gloria tibi Domine!

WORDS.

ORDS are lighter than the cloud-foam
Of the restless ocean spray ;
Vainer than the trembling shadow

That the next hour steals away.
By the fall of summer raindrops

Is the air as deeply stirred; And the rose-leaf that we tread on Will outlive a word.

Yet on the dull silence breaking
With a lightning flash, a Word,
Bearing endless desolation

On its blighting wings, I heard:
Earth can forge no keener weapon,
Dealing surer death and pain,

And the cruel echo answered

Through long years again.