I have known one word hang starlike
O'er a dreary waste of years,
And it only shone the brighter

Looked at through a mist of tears; While a weary wanderer gathered Hope and heart on Life's dark way, By its faithful promise, shining Clearer day by day.

I have known a spirit, calmer
Than the calmest lake, and clear
As the heavens that gazed upon it,
With no wave of hope or fear;

But a storm had swept across it,

And its deepest depths were stirred, (Never, never more to slumber,) Only by a word.

I have known a word more gentle
Than the breath of summer air,

In a listening heart it nestled,
And it lived for ever there.

Not the beating of its prison

Stirred it ever, night or day:

Only with the heart's last throbbing
Could it fade away.

Words are mighty, words are living: Serpents with their venomous stings, Or bright angels, crowding round us, With heaven's light upon their wings: Every word has its own spirit,

True or false, that never dies; Every word man's lips have uttered Echoes in God's skies.

A LOVE TOKEN.

O you grieve no costly offering
To the Lady you can make?
One there is, and gifts less worthy

Queens have stooped to take.

Take a Heart of virgin silver,

Fashion it with heavy blows,

Cast it then in Love's hot furnace

When it fiercest glows.

With Pain's sharpest point transfix it,
And then carve in letters fair,
Tender dreams and quaint devices,
Fancies sweet and rare.

Set within it Hope's blue sapphire,
Many changing opal fears,
Blood-red ruby-stones of daring

Mixed with pearly tears.

And when you have wrought and laboured

Till the gift is all complete,

You may humbly lay your offering

At the Lady's feet.

Should her mood perchance be gracious—

With disdainful smiling pride,

She will place it with the trinkets
Glittering at her side.

A TRYST WITH DEATH.

AM footsore and very weary,

But I travel to meet a Friend:
The way is long and dreary,
But I know that it soon must end.

He is travelling fast like the whirlwind,
And though I creep slowly on,

We are drawing nearer, nearer,
And the journey is almost done!

Through the heat of many summers, Through many a springtime rain, Through long autumns and weary winters, I have hoped to meet him, in vain.

I know that he will not fail me,
So I count every hour chime,

Every throb of my own heart's beating,
That tells of the flight of Time.

On the day of my birth he plighted
His kingly word to me:—

I have seen him in dreams so often,
That I know what his smile must be.

I have toiled through the sunny woodland,
Through fields that basked in the light,
And through the lone paths in the forest
I crept in the dead of night.

I will not fear at his coming,

Although I must meet him alone; He will look in my eyes so gently,

And take my

hand in his own.

Like a dream all my toil will vanish,

When I lay my head on his breast ;

But the journey is very weary,

And he only can give me rest!