,,gleams ,,of ,,sunshine ,optimistic ,poems by ,,joseph ,,horatio ,,chant ,illustration3 ,rev4 ,j4 ,h4 ,chant ,printed for the ,author by ,william ,briggs ,toronto #aiae ,copyright1 ,canada1 #aiae by ,j4 ,h4 ,chant4 ,,to ,the memory of my beloved wife1 ,,mary ,,matilda ,mc,k,i,m ,who1 by her gentle disposition1 cheerful spirit1 sound judgment1 and earnest ,christian life1 not only proved herself my true helpmate for over #df years1 but1 also1 made our home a place of constant peace and abounding joy1 ,i dedicate this book4 ,j4 ,h4 ,c4 ,,contents ,,page ,,invocation #g ,,father ,,of ,,universal ,,man #i ,,god',s ,,plan ,,is ,,best #ab ,,canada #ad ,,late ,,autumn #ah ,,friendship #ai ,,life #bb ,,to ,,mr4 ,,rudyard ,,kipling #bc ,,men ,,below ,,deck #bf ,,others ,,save ,,with ,,fear #bh ,,tread ,,softly #ca ,,it ,,was ,,my ,,fault #cd ,,kept ,,the ,,flag ,,floating #ce ,,mary #cg ,a ,,world ,,redeemed #ch ,,alaskan ,,boundary ,,settlement #dj ,,my ,,primrose #db ,,niagara',s ,,rainbow #dd ,,my ,,sister ,,nell ,,and ,i #df ,,gather ,,the ,,wayside ,,flowers #dh ,,hide ,,their ,,scars #ej ,,ashamed ,,but ,,not ,,afraid #eb ,,dunbar #ed ,,marston ,,moor #ei ,,oil ,,the ,,cricket #fb ,,the ,,real #fc ,,victory ,,gained ,,and ,,life ,,lost #fe ,,the ,,baptism ,,of ,,clovis #ff ,,the ,,water ,,lily #gj ,,he ,,shall ,,wipe ,,away ,,every ,,tear #gb ,,the ,,taj ,,of ,,agra #gc ,,england',s ,,brave ,,sons #gh ,,queen ,,victoria #hj ,,silver ,,tones #hc ,,god',s ,,order #hf ,,influence #hh ,,undecaying ,,fruit #ij ,,the ,,heroes ,,of ,,our ,,day #ib ,,the ,,big ,,bear ,,creek #id ,,the ,,frost ,,on ,,the ,,window #if ,,wilt ,,thou ,,harass ,a ,,driven ,,leaf8 #ih ,a ,,gem #ajj ,,the ,,clouds #aja ,,the ,,mosses #ajc ,,the ,,grandest ,,theme #aje ,,september #ajg ,,the ,,flowers #aaa ,,the ,,bud #aac ,,beautiful ,,sky #aae ,,buttercups ,,and ,,daisies #aaf ,,the ,,moss ,,rose #aah ,,god',s ,,care #abj ,,my ,,lot #aba ,,god',s ,,foot ,,on ,,the ,,cradle #abb ,,god',s ,,gifts ,,to ,,be ,,enjoyed #abd ,,the ,,highest ,,goal #abf ,,joy ,,in ,,the ,,morning #abh ,,he ,,shall ,,dwell ,,on ,,high #abi ,,bag ,,your ,,game #acb ,,others' ,,burdens #ace ,,memory #acf ,,the ,,royal ,,way #ach ',,stablished #adj ,a ,,merognostic #ada ,,salut ,,aux ,,blessis #add ,,sonnet #adf ,,brotherhood #adg ,,she ,,dearly ,,loved ,,the ,,flowers #adi ,,my ,,pansy ,,pets #aea ,,love ,,better ,,than ,,knowledge #aec ,a ,,suffering ,,god #aee ,,the ,,copy #aeg ,,perfect ,,work #aei ,,the ,,johnstown ,,disaster #afj ,,eye ,,hath ,,not ,,seen #afi ,,what ,,lasts8 #aga ,,is ,,there ,a ,,brighter ,,world8 #agc ,a ,,glimpse ,,of ,,heaven #agf ,,the ,,end ,,we ,,sought #agh ,,aspiration #agi ,,my ,,rest #ahj ,,paint ,,me ,,as ,i ,,am1 ,,warts ,,and ,,all #ahb ,i ,,was ,,there #ahc ,,true ,,love #ahe ,a ,,true ,,man #ahf ,,my ,,old ,,sweetheart #ahg ,gleams of ,sunshine ,,invocation ,o ,thou1 who art the source of joy and light1 ,the great ,revealer of the will ,divine2 ,thyself ,divine1 all nature owns ,thy might1 ,and bows in homage at a beck of ,thine1 ,afford me light to guide my unskilled hand1 ,and by ,thy ,spirit all my thoughts command4 ,to ,thy great name ,i dedicate my powers1 ,yielding to ,thee what ,thou with blood hast bought1 ,resolved that ,thou shalt have my days and hours1 ,and for ,thy sake shall every work be wrought2 ,o deign to use me1 if it be ,thy will1 ,and my poor heart with love and gladness fill4 ,if this strange impulse which ,i feel within ,to write this book proceeds1 ,o ,lord1 from ,thee1 ,let it not die1 nor be defiled by sin1 ,but let the work from self and sin be free1 ,and prove a guide to home and bliss above1 ,and help to fill this warring world with love4 ,the ,master's touch ,i know it sadly lacks1 ,and may not please the nice artistic taste ,of some fine mind that naught but gold attracts2 ,some may not count these iron-filings waste2 ,like magnets1 to which gold will not adhere1 ,may they find ore in this to bless and cheer4 ,in this plain pitcher1 ,lord1 ,thy blessing pour1 ,that from it men their raging thirst may slake1 ,and when exhausted is the scanty store1 ,then let the earthen vessel quickly break2 ,its end is gained if ,thou art glorified1 ,and men have learned to love the ,christ who died4 ,as flowers drink in the solar rays and dew1 ,and in return give bloom and odors sweet1 ,so would ,i to ,thy ,spirit's touch prove true1 ,and render that return which seemeth meet2 ,come1 dews of grace6 ,great ,sun1 illume my heart6 ,that ,i to some sad soul may joy impart4 ,,father ,,of ,,universal ,,man ,father of ,universal ,man1 ,where'er in this wide world he roam1 ,not known to thee by kith or clan1 ,nor height1 nor breadth of mental dome1 ,nor babbling tongue1 nor sounding creed1 ,but by his woe and common need4 ,the pushing ,anglo-,saxon race1 ,the ,celts with wealth of heart and mind1 ,the ,esquimaux of leaden face1 ,the ,arabs whom no chain can bind1 ,with hardy ,boers and all the rest1 ,are with one common ,father blest4 ,and all are brothers1 though at times ,our flashing swords obscure the sun4 ,we ring aloud our ,christmas chimes1 ,but louder sounds the booming gun1 ,and brother is by brother slain1 ,and kindred ties are rent in twain4 ,yet ,thou art true whate'er betide2 ,thy heart o'er human woe doth melt2 ,for men of every race ,christ died1 ,and1 as a zone1 ,thy love would belt ,all human kind from pole to pole ,into one grand1 harmonious whole4 ,men war with men in every clime1 ,commotions rock this earthly ball2 ,our souls are covered o'er with grime-- ,sad fruits of our ,adamic fall1 ,but grace shall triumph in the end1 ,and good the evil far transcend4 ,thy throne remains forever firm1 ,and here1 amidst the strife of men1 ,we find with joy a heavenly germ ,which shall re-stock this world again ,with fruitful plants of righteousness1 ,if ,thou1 ,o ,god1 but deign to bless4 ,help us that we may not deny ,our brotherhood in hour of strife2 ,when swords shall from their scabbards fly1 ,and great the sacrifice of life1 ,may we in pity o'er them bend1 ,and help to wounded foe extend4 ,if we are working out ,thy plan1 ,give our brave soldiers arms of steel1 ,and may each prove himself a man-- ,to ,god and to his nation leal1 ,and never falter in the fight1 ,but die1 if need be1 for the right4 ,may right prevail in this dread war1 ,though we be humbled in the dust2 ,to fail our end is better far ,then gain it1 if it be unjust1 ,but if our aims with ,thine agree-- ,we trust--and leave results with ,thee4 ,the world moves on2 let none essay ,to block it in its onward course1 ,lest they like chaff be swept away ,as by a supernatural force2 ,for laggards progress does not wait-- ,keep pace with time or bide your fate4 ,may our brave foes rise in defeat ,to higher form of liberty2 ,and ,freedom's flag1 as seemeth meet1 ,wave over all from sea to sea2 ,pushed on as by the hand of fate ,to nationhood1 both firm and great4 ,,god',s ,,plan ,,is ,,best ,thy plan is best1 though it may not agree ,with my conceptions of my needs and rights1 ,and faith may fail to scale its azure heights2 ,yet still ,i trust1 and leave my cause with ,thee4 ,with single eye ,i sought to do ,thy will4 ,i felt ,thy smile and left results with ,thee2 ,if they have failed1 then that is naught to me-- ,i did my part1 and am ,thy servant still4 ,the hearts of men are in ,thy mighty hand2 ,naught is concealed from ,thy all-searching sight2 ,canst ,thou not turn them to the left or right8 ,the raging ocean calms at ,thy command4 ,the aching clay may circumscribe my sphere2 ,yet in confinement ,i may labor still ,in work which harmonizes with ,thy will1 ,and e'er rejoice to have my ,master near4 ,thoughts of ,thy love will yet remain with me1 ,and in my silent hours may shape assume1 ,and by their measures help to lift the gloom ,of this dark world1 and bring men nearer ,thee4 ,whate'er may come1 ,i will not1 ,lord1 complain2 ,my plan is ,thine1 ,i have no other choice4 ,in work or rest 'tis meet ,i should rejoice2 ,contentment in my lot is blessed gain4 ,,canada ,dear ,canada1 our native land1 ,our love for thee grows day by day2 ,our fathers left the olden strand1 ,o'er sea and rapids made their way1 ,and by their energy and skill ,they laid thy firm foundation deep1 ,and sowed the seed o'er vale and hill ,which we1 their sons1 are called to reap4 ,the wilderness blooms as the rose2 ,the old-time hardships are unknown2 ,and wealth in streams of commerce flows ,from sea to sea--a nation grown-- ,still youthful1 but with thews of steel ,to throttle foes that may arise2 ,yet loving touch sore hearts to heal1 ,and lift us nearer to the skies4 ,we cannot boast as blue a sky ,as smiles o'er many an ,alpine plain1 ,nor are our mountain peaks as high ,as theirs1 yet we have other gain2 ,our hills are rich in yellow gold1 ,our plains are broad and fertile too2 ,our lakes and streams hold wealth untold1 ,and grander forests never grew4 ,our sky is bright to healthy eyes2 ,pure ozone lades the air we breathe2 ,our climate we have learned to prize2 ,nor do we o'er our winters grieve2 ,for nature throws her ermine robe ,o'er purple hills and vales as well2 ,no portion of this earthly globe ,as gay as this1 with sleigh and bell4 ,but soon the winter wears away1 ,and plants long sheltered now are seen1 ,and ,april showers and smiling ,may ,soon clothe the earth in living green4 ,monotony is thus unknown-- ,each season is a glad surprise1 ,in which ,god's truth and love are shown1 ,and hope within us never dies4 ,our sons1 inured to noble toil1 ,grow strong in arm and broad in mind2 ,some stay at home to till the soil1 ,others in various callings find ,their missions--but where'er their place ,in the great drama of our day1 ,they1 as a class1 win in the race1 ,and the behests of ,heaven obey4 ,the gold of monarchy have we1 ,without the useless silt and dross2 ,and like our cousins1 all are free1 ,yet we have no election boss4 ,no union here of ,church and ,state1 ,yet ,church and ,state full well agree ,that nations never can be great ,if they refuse to bow the knee4 ,we make the nation's weal or woe1 ,as one may shape his future life4 ,god's mill1 'tis said1 grinds fine1 tho' slow1 ,a fact lost sight of in the strife ,for place and power in ,church and ,state1 ,and think ,god cares not what we do2 ,but to our doubt he whispers wait1 ,and time proves ,him both just and true4 ,from ,england and from sunny ,france ,our fathers came1 long years ago2 ,on ,abraham's plain with sword and lance ,they fought as foes--gave blow for blow4 ,the victors and the conquered now ,recall that day with mutual pride2 ,to their grand destiny all bow1 ,and as true peers1 stand side by side4 ,so give me ,canada before ,the fairest land beneath the sky4 ,we stretch our arms from shore to shore ,and all are free1 both low and high2 ,an infant nation yet1 'tis true1 ,but strong in muscle and in nerve1 ,we hold our own1 give all their due1 ,and ,god's great purpose humbly serve4 ,,late ,,autumn ,the fields lie bare before me now1 ,the fruit is gathered in1 ,not even seen a grazing cow1 ,nor heard the blackbird's din4 ,the heath is brown1 and ivy pale1 ,the woodbine berries red1 ,and withered leaves borne on the gale ,sink down on peaty bed4 ,at morn the fence was covered o'er ,with a pale sheet of rime2 ,the earth was like a marble floor1 ,but now is turned to grime4 ,for ,autumn rains are falling fast1 ,and swells the running brook2 ,the ,indian ,summer1 too1 is past2 ,for snowfall soon we look4 ,,friendship ,when presses hard my load of care1 ,and other friends from me depart1 ,i want a friend my grief to share1 ,with faithful speech and loving heart4 ,i want a friend of noble mind1 ,who loves me more than praise or pelf1 ,reproves my faults with spirit kind1 ,and thinks of me as well as self-- ,a friend whose ear is ever closed ,against traducers' poison breath2 ,and1 though in me be not disclosed ,an equal love1 yet loves till death-- ,a friend who knows my weakness well1 ,and ever seeks to calm my fears2 ,if words should fail the storm to quell1 ,will soothe my fevered heart with tears-- ,a friend not moved by jealousy ,should ,i outrun him in life's race2 ,and though ,i doubt1 still trusts in me ,with loyal heart and cloudless face4 ,true friendship knows both joy and grief1 ,the sweetest pleasure1 keenest pain2 ,its sharpest pangs are ever brief1 ,mere flitting clouds before the rain4 ,but soon the joy returns again ,with bluer sky and brighter light2 ,the grief proves but a narrow glen ,all full of flowers1 though hid from sight4 ,and e'en in darkness we inhale ,the fragrant odors love emits2 ,friendship like this can never fail-- ,on love's strong throne its monarch sits4 ,true friendship is of greater worth ,than words1 though they were solid gold4 ,to all the glittering gems of earth ,i it prefer1 a thousandfold4 ,one ,friend ,i have who knows my heart1 ,and loves me with a changeless love2 ,i love ,him1 too--nor death can part ,us two1 for we will love above4 ,a woman's love to ,his is faint2 ,no brother cleaves as close as ,he2 ,no seraph words could ever paint ,the love this ,friend now bears to me4 ,,life ,our lives seem filled with things of little worth2 ,a thousand petty cares arise each day ,which bring our soaring thoughts from heaven to earth1 ,reminding us that we have feet of clay2 ,yet we will not from path of duty stray ,if we amidst them all cleave to the right2 ,nor great nor small are actions in ,his sight2 ,through lowly vale ,he shows our feet the way4 ,our early dreams may not be realized2 ,the roseate sky now proves quite commonplace2 ,the constellations we so highly prized ,have vanished all--nor left the slightest trace ,of former glory in its azure face1 ,but high o'er all beams out the polar star ,to guide us safe through rock and sandy bar2 ,life is complete and its cap-stone is grace4 ,,to ,,mr4 ,,rudyard ,,kipling#a ,true laureate of the ,anglo-,saxon race1 ,whose words have won the hearts of young and old2 ,so free from cant1 and yet replete with grace1 ,or prose or verse it glows like burnished gold2 ,thy muse is ever loyal to the truth1 ,and those who know thee best forget thy youth4 ,unbend thy bow and rest with us awhile2 ,thy active mind requires a healthy brain2 ,death's shadow has gone back upon the dial1 ,and thou art left a higher goal to gain2 ,the future will eclipse the brilliant past2 ,fear not2 thy ideal will be reached at last4 ,to do the grandest work one must needs be ,endowed by ,nature for the master task2 ,yea more1 he must possess the light to see ,those mysteries which nature seems to mask1 ,and this can gain but in the royal way-- ',tis dread experience leads from gloom to-day4 ,the ,master saw a struggling youth1 and smiled1 ,pleased with his work in main2 but1 knowing too ,his latent power1 if it could be beguiled ,from hiding-place1 much greater work would do1 ,he took ,his servant's hand and led the way ,through vale of sorrow up to brighter day4 ,by other path this height is ne'er attained1 ,nor books nor schools its hidden wealth unveil4 ,philosophy and art have treasures gained1 ,but in this quest they must forever fail-- ,experience only can the gift impart1 ,bring needed light and regulate the heart4 ,to solace those who grieve one must have felt ,in his own heart the rending pangs of pain2 ,the heart that suffers not will never melt ,at others' woes1 though free from selfish stain2 ,what we have felt and seen we truly know1 ,and thus endowed1 our tears for others flow4 ,so leave thy much-loved lyre awhile unstrung ,till health again invigorate thy frame2 ,with brain renewed1 with vigorous heart and lung ,take up thy work once more1 and greater fame-- ,a richer man by far than e'er before1 ,for thou hast treasure on the other shore4 ,footnote #a3 ,these lines were written directly after ,mr4 ,kipling's recovery from severe illness4 ,,men ,,below ,,deck ,the battleship its anchor weighs1 ,and belches forth its thunder2 ,its commodore all classes praise1 ,and at his victories wonder2 ,and well they may--for braver man ,ne'er wielded sword or sabre2 ,but tell me1 brother1 if you can1 ,who did the lowly labor4 ,below the deck in engine-room1 ,as oilers and coal-heavers8 ,amidst the smut and ghastly gloom1 ,who worked the iron levers8 ,and thus it is in other lines2 ,brave men are often hidden ,below the deck1 in shops and mines1 ,to higher plane unbidden4 ,the men on deck the praise receive1 ,but meagre thanks the others2 ,as honest men they seldom grieve1 ,and envy not their brothers2 ,a common cause they gladly serve1 ,though in a lowly station1 ,from path of duty never swerve-- ,loyal to ,god and nation4 ,for when the smoke has cleared away1 ,and din of battle ended1 ,on upper deck1 in bright array1 ,by angel bands attended1 ,the whole ship's crew will then appear1 ,from high and lowly station1 ,and each the words well done shall hear1 ',midst shouts of acclamation4 ,,others ,,save ,,with ,,fear ,some men there are who stand so straight1 ,so equipoised1 that others' fate ,seems to depend on their behest2 ,and useless all our every quest ,to gain perfection or renown1 ,unless we touch the flowing gown ,of these high-priests1 whose shadows fall ,within themselves1 if fall at all4 ,others are not as straight as these1 ,but more like rough and gnarled trees2 ,but little beauty they display2 ,shadows they cast across the way2 ,and from them men with scorning turn1 ,or1 if they speak1 their accents burn ,like capsicum on chafed skin1 ,and leave a smarting wound within4 ,once noble men1 when turned aside ,by fleshly lust or sinful pride1 ,each one becomes a broken bell ,on which the angry fiends of hell ,ring out their discord1 harsh and loud1 ,as if with demon powers endowed4 ,colossal once through grace they were2 ,colossal still1 though cleft and bare4 ,on northern rocks is often seen ,the impress of some southern sheen1 ,the brightness of a warmer bloom1 ,unknown to winter's frost and gloom4 ,the fossil flower of epoch fair ,has left its lasting impress there4 ,so in some men whose hearts are cold ,you find a trace of days of old4 ,while we deplore the ,arctic chill1 ,the frigid heart1 the ice-bound will1 ,we must admire the fossil trace1 ,still seen1 of early days of grace4 ,hiding from sight as best we can ,the traces of the fallen man1 ,we feast our eyes upon the fair1 ,though fossil1 lines that linger there4 ,how to restore is our concern1 ,as we o'er their declensions mourn4 ,can such dire ruin be repaired8 ,only if ,god's strong arm be bared4 ,but we must do a brother's part1 ,and try to thaw the frozen heart2 ,not by the fire of wrath above1 ,but by the melting coals of love4 ,as bullets smooth are farther shot1 ,because rough angles they have not1 ,so gentle ways and loving speech ,are sure the erring heart to reach1 ,while jagged deeds and words unkind1 ,like pebbles rough1 much friction find2 ,they fall before they reach the goal1 ,and seldom help the needy soul4 ,to truth be loyal1 but take a care ,that with true zeal tact have a share4 ,the lightning when it strikes the tree ,runs with the grain1 as oft you see2 ,those who at angling are adepts1 ,choose well their bait and guard their steps2 ,so if you would the sinner gain1 ,bait well your hook1 or mark the grain4 ,,tread ,,softly ,in the courts of truth tread softly1 ,though your tread be firm and bold2 ,your steps may awaken echoes1 ,resounding through years untold4 ,the trend of the age is onward1 ,and you should not lag behind2 ,if men's minds are bound with fetters1 ,perchance you may some unbind4 ,our creed1 say you1 needs revising1 ,in line with the growth of light2 ,be sure you have made real progress ,before you assume the right1 ,by stroke of pen1 to unsettle ,the faith of the long ago2 ,for many who err in judgment ,stand fast to the truth they know4 ,you bring from the mine rare jewels1 ,that you think the world should see2 ,but1 perhaps1 their estimation ,with your own may not agree2 ,they may lack discrimination1 ,and their worth may not discern2 ,so polish them at your leisure1 ,and give the world time to learn4 ,before you dig up the old tree ,that sheltered in ages past ,the earth's noblest men and women ,from the fury of the blast1 ,see that your sapling is rooted1 ,and no borer at its base1 ,and its boughs both strong and spreading1 ,to cover an erring race4 ,bear down on the lever gently1 ,or the rock may be o'erturned6 ,or1 perchance1 your lever shattered1 ,and little experience learned6 ,take time to adjust your fulcrum1 ,then thrust home your iron bar2 ,bear down and the rock is lifted1 ,is lifted without a jar4 ,your views are1 perhaps1 exotic-- ,young shoots from a tropic brain1 ,they need to be better rooted ,to endure the wind and rain2 ,you may well admire the markings ,on each graceful stem and leaf1 ,but if taken from the hot-house1 ,they will surely come to grief4 ,before they have wholly perished ,they may please admiring eyes1 ,the old be thrown on the dunghill1 ,to receive your floral prize2 ,they adorn the porch and window1 ,and brighten the wayside bed1 ,but we waken some summer morning ,to find our new treasures dead4 ',tis better to make haste slowly1 ,than to antedate your day2 ,the farmer waits for the sunshine1 ,to transmute the grass to hay4 ,when the fields are ripe for harvest ,fear neither the heat or rain1 ,but thrust in your sharpened sickle1 ,and gather the golden grain4 ,,it ,,was ,,my ,,fault#b ,those men are deemed heroes who rush on the foe ,regardless of danger1 and seek not to know ,what others may do2 ,stern duty demands it--why should they falter ,if all they hold dear is laid on the altar1 ,and conscience be true8 ,the greatest of all is the man who can say ,when battle is over and foe gained the day1 ,the fault was in me3 ,my plan miscarried through miscalculation2 ,on me rests the blame1 and not on the nation3 ,my soldiers are free4 ,in ,george ,stewart ,white1 and men of like mind1 ,our nation can rest1 for in them you will find ,a true manliness2 ,their failures acknowledged are failures no more2 ,defeat to such men only opens the door ,to future success4 ,footnote #b3 ,general ,white's words4 ,,kept ,,the ,,flag ,,floating ,thank ,god1 we have kept the flag floating4--,general ,white4 ,some men1 like ,french1 display much dash2 ,they boldly rush upon the foe1 ,their sword-blades like the lightning flash1 ,as they on helm or hauberk clash2 ,nor fear the foeman's blow4 ,we praise them for their gallant deeds2 ,they are the men the ,empire needs4 ,but true as they are those who stand ,within the fort beleaguered round2 ,resources few at their command1 ,their army but a feeble band1 ,yet bravely hold their ground2 ,and o'er their blood-bespattered coats ,the ,union ,jack in triumph floats4 ,reduced their strength through lack of food1 ,and fever germs on vitals preyed2 ,yet they o'er trouble did not brood1 ,by night or day of cheerful mood2 ,this burden on them weighed-- ,to keep the flag afloat--in brief1 ,till ,buller came to their relief4 ,brave ,white1 accept our meed of praise6 ,we crown thee equal to the best ,of heroes of the olden days1 ,whose deeds inspired the poets' lays6 ,we need no further quest2 ,but this with gratitude we note1 ,thy valour kept the flag afloat6 ,valor like thine does not surprise ,when we review thy noble past2 ,a hero is the one who tries1 ,though he may not to ideal rise-- ,his plan may fail at last-- ,yet is too brave to lay the blame ,on others1 but takes all the shame4 ,the fault was mine1 thy language then1 ,revealing the divinest grace ,possessed by truly noble men1 ,and1 prophecy of triumph1 when ,with foe brought face to face1 ,the choice remains1 defeat or death1 ,the flag will float till latest breath4 ,,mary ,she brought her alabaster flask ,well-filled with precious nard2 ,nor did she deem the act a task1 ,nor look for great reward2 ,she only thought of ,his great love1 ,and felt her gift was small ,for ,him who left ,his home above ,to suffer death for all4 ,but her blest ,lord more highly prized ,the loving heart that gave2 ,for loveless gifts are e'er despised1 ,yet men oft seek to pave ,the way that leads to glory land ,with deeds devoid of grace2 ,but only those who love can stand ,approved before ,his face4 ,a ,,world ,,redeemed ,this world is but the shadow ,of the world that is to be1 ,a ripple on the surface ,of a deep1 unfathomed sea4 ,god's plans are always perfect1 ,but long ages intervene ,from the planning of the temple ,to the glow upon its sheen2 ,but we can be co-workers ,in accomplishing his plan2 ,for in ,god's purpose is a place ,for every son of man4 ,the germ may be developed ,in a more salubrious clime1 ,all obstacles surmounted ,in the onward march of time1 ,and nature's forces harnessed ,will their destiny fulfil1 ,and things now deemed supernal ,respond to human will2 ,for ,god has so adjusted ,the laws of this earthly sphere1 ,that by man's help his plans unfold1 ,and order doth appear4 ,the words of ,god's own prophets ,concerning these latter days ,of mighty transformations1 ,to our great ,redeemer's praise2 ,when wastes shall glow in beauty1 ,and the savage beast be kind1 ,though they have prior fulfilment ,in the realm of soul and mind2 ,will then be more than figure1 ,though that we all count sublime2 ,the earth will wear its regal robes ,in every land and clime4 ,this life is but a sample ,of the life that is to be2 ,there we know the perfect lesson1 ,here we learn the a--b--c2 ,and the life beyond is fashioned ,by the thoughts and deeds of this2 ,fitting it for realms of darkness1 ,or for never-ending bliss2 ,for those alone will sorrow ,who receive ,his grace in vain1 ,but those who wrought with ,god will prove ,that godliness is gain4 ,,alaskan ,,boundary ,,settlement ,my neighbor's farm and mine lie side by side1 ,and nothing should our mutual trust divide2 ,but they who made th' original survey ,were guided by the stars1 the records say1 ,so that the line that marks out our domain ,is indistinct1 and puzzling doubts remain4 ,our farms are large1 and portions near the line ,with rocky soil and stunted spruce and pine1 ,with scarce a wigwam or a ranger's hearth1 ,we left untilled1 and deemed of little worth2 ,the petals of this desert rose unfold1 ,when man discovers mines of yellow gold4 ,where is the boundary line8 is now the cry4 ,each stakes his claim and gives his reason why2 ,one sought an exit to the main highway1 ,the other closed the gates and gained the day ,in custom duties on the shining ore1 ,and stores for man and beast that inland pour4 ,each claimed his own1 whatever that may be1 ,yet1 neighbors true1 we feared to disagree4 ,we studied maps and treaties old and new1 ,yet each his own line-fence declared was true2 ,then1 to avoid unseemly strife1 we chose ,to settle our dispute as friends1 not foes4 ,my neighbor chose three men in his employ1 ,i three1 at least1 accepted them with joy2 ,not chosen these to arbitrate our case1 ,but from material at command to trace1 ,in harmony with law1 the primal line ,for boundary fence1 between his farm and mine4 ,i lost my case--all but one narrow lane6 ,all other gates are closed1 but why complain8 ,diminished somewhat is my large estate1 ,but self-respect remains--nor place for hate2 ,o'er our line-fence we grasp each other's hand1 ,and for the right1 united1 ever stand4 ,,my ,,primrose ,my sweet primrose with thy open face1 ,and with fringe-like leaves1 without a trace ,of coarseness1 either in flower or stem1 ,among all my plants thou art the gem4 ,my lovely lilies soon disappear2 ,thy bloom is constant through all the year2 ,in summer's heat and winter's cold1 ,undimmed the light of thy floral gold4 ,or if thy color be pink1 or blue1 ,or white as snow1 thou art ever true2 ,my room is bright with thy smiling eyes1 ,and thy fragrance rare ,i also prize4 ,thou hast done thy part1 my little pet-- ,let me keep thy roots forever wet1 ,but guard with care all thy tender leaves ,and growing crown1 which the earth-crust heaves4 ,thou dost heaven-ward tend1 aspiring high1 ,to kiss the stars in the vaulted sky1 ,and they look down from the azure blue1 ,my sweet primrose--they are smiling1 too4 ,,niagara',s ,,rainbow ,upon the table-rock ,i stand1 ,and gaze into the depths profound1 ,in ecstacy at sights so grand1 ,and deafened by the sound ,of rushing waters1 as they leap ,like maddened steeds1 down hillside steep4 ,the falling spray my head bedews1 ,as gently as a vernal shower2 ,or1 as the ,holy ,ghost imbues ,in consecrated hour1 ,the soul that inly yearns for love1 ,and seeks it from the throne above4 ,but ,i see more than chasm deep1 ,than falling spray and rushing tide4 ,sublime1 indeed1 the awful leap2 ,the awe will long abide-- ,god's rainbow hangs in colors bright1 ,a thing of beauty in my sight4 ,our cousins on the other side ,and we too often disagree2 ,puffed up1 ,i fear1 at times1 with pride1 ,each strong1 and brave1 and free2 ,but we forget the stormy past1 ,our lands and hearts are linked at last4 ,the ,union-,jack hangs o'er my head1 ,the ,stars and ,stripes my cousin rears1 ,but old-time grievances are dead ,for all the coming years2 ,as separate flags they still may wave1 ,but we are one the world to save4 ,,my ,,sister ,,nell ,,and ,i ,we strolled down by the river side1 ,my sister ,nell and ,i1 ,to watch the waters onward glide1 ,and vessels passing by4 ,on ,nature's floor of lovely green1 ,bedecked with flowers of gold1 ,the purple sassafras as sheen1 ,which trumpet vines enfold4 ,we played our youthful games for hours1 ,and told our childish tales2 ,adorned each brow with fragrant flowers1 ,and slept 'neath cooling gales4 ,for ,i was then but nine years old1 ,and she was only seven2 ,yet joys like ours can ne'er be told-- ,they savored much of heaven4 ,close by the bank1 in shady nooks1 ,the waxen lilies grew2 ,we called them fish1 and with our hooks ,to shore full many drew4 ,with these ,i made a wreath for ,nell4 ,she was so good and pure1 ,they seemed to suit her brow so well1 ,yet could not long endure ,the heated brow and dewless air-- ,the river suits them best2 ,but graced awhile her golden hair1 ,as dove would silken nest4 ,frail like the lilies1 too1 was ,nell4 ,the fever's scorching blast ,swept by1 and my fair flowerette fell1 ,and to the dust was cast4 ,but now she blooms in glory land1 ,close by the tree of ,life2 ,better to bloom at ,god's right hand ,than in this world of strife4 ,i hope some day to meet her there1 ,and as in days of yore ,we plucked the lilies1 pure and fair1 ,up there we'll gather more4 ,,gather ,,the ,,wayside ,,flowers ',tis well to have a goal in mind1 ,a life-aim1 high and true2 ,clear as the day1 and well defined1 ,and ever kept in view4 ,but ,god has strewn along the way ,bright flowers of every hue4 ,gather the brightest while you may1 ,for they were meant for you4 ,heaven's joy transcends the joys of earth1 ,but if earth's joys be pure ,they must have had a heavenly birth1 ,and bless while they endure2 ,so pluck the flower before it fades-- ,drink from the purling stream2 ,nor look for sorrow's darkening shades1 ,but for the morning gleam4 ,life's burdens lose full half their weight ,if gay our spirits be2 ,the rest beyond we antedate1 ,and serve1 though ever free4 ,our lamentations all will end1 ,exchanged for smile and song1 ,and men will mark our upward trend ,by joy-points all along4 ,the poet wrote1 no room for mirth2 ,much less for sigh and frown4 ,a vale of tears may be this earth-- ',tis so to every clown4 ,the desert blossoms as the rose1 ,and joy flows everywhere2 ,the star of hope in brightness glows1 ,no room for dark despair4 ,before we reach ,god's heaven above1 ,enjoy ,his heaven below2 ,and by the ministries of love ,a ,christlike nature show2 ,for he who lives a selfish life ,must lose the joy of this2 ,for highest good1 vain is our strife1 ,if man share not our bliss4 ,,hide ,,their ,,scars6 ,a painter1 high in worldy fame1 ,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 day2 ,for he by arms subdued the world4 ,kingdoms and empires owned his sway ,and bowed beneath his flag unfurled4 ,but ,alexander bore a scar1 ,deep marked upon his royal brow2 ,to paint him thus would greatly mar ,the monarch's beauty2 as a slough ,would mar the beauty of a lawn1 ,where queenly feet are wont to tread2 ,or like the cloud at early dawn1 ,which hides some glory 'neath its spread4 ,to leave it out would not be true1 ,for ,alexander bore the scar2 ,the painter this resolved to do1 ,which would be true1 yet would not mar3 ,to paint the monarch's head reclined1 ,with his fore-finger on his brow2 ,and thus much grace with art combined1 ,like ornament on vessel's prow4 ,the finger rested on the scar1 ,as if mere chance had placed it there2 ,and hid from sight this fruit of war1 ,and left a likeness true and fair4 ,so let us try1 as best we can1 ,to cover o'er each ugly scar ,upon the brow of mortal man1 ,so none may see it1 near nor far4 ,,ashamed1 ,,but ,,not ,,afraid ,o ,god1 ,i am ashamed to die1 ,but not the least afraid2 ,tho' death's dark shadow draweth nigh1 ,atonement has been made ,for every member of our race1 ,and ,i on it rely1 ,and hope immortal blooms thro' grace2 ,i'm not afraid to die4 ,but ,thou hast done great things for me1 ,and ,i have nothing done4 ,to set my sin-bound spirit free1 ,was sacrificed ,thy ,son2 ,and every day by ,thy kind hand ,rich blessings are bestowed2 ,oh1 how can ,i before ,thee stand1 ,or rest in ,thine abode ,with self-respect1 or feel at home ,with no returns to show1 ,my whole life like the worthless foam ,on time's incessant flow4 ,oh1 that in life's great harvest field1 ,i may some reaping do2 ,early and late the sickle wield1 ,and prove a reaper true4 ,and when the summons comes from ,thee1 ,while ,i on ,christ rely1 ,thou wilt not be ashamed of me1 ,nor ,i ashamed to die4 ,,dunbar ,up to ,dunbar our ,cromwell went1 ,not to invade was his intent2 ,but they who first ,king ,charles sold ,now turn their backs on friends of old1 ,and principles they then held dear ,were sacrificed for self1 ,i fear4 ,another ,stuart they receive1 ,who knew too well how to deceive2 ,the most perfidious of his race1 ,corrupt in life1 and void of grace1 ,the menial of the ,papacy2 ,and yet content by oath to free ,himself from ,holy ,see's control1 ,and covenant to save his soul ,by the ,scotch ,presbyterian mode1 ,as to the crown this paved the road4 ,but ,cromwell brooked not this control2 ,he wished man free to save his soul ,as conscience may to him dictate1 ,without subservience to the ,state4 ,he saw also thro' the disguise ,of one well versed in fraud and lies1 ,and saw how ,england's liberties ,were threatened by this scheme of his4 ,so up to ,dunbar ,cromwell went2 ,to break this compact his intent1 ,conserve the rights of ,britons true ,to worship ,god in desk and pew ,as conscience may to them dictate1 ,without control of king1 or state1 ,or ,papal bull1 or legate's rod-- ,only accountable to ,god4 ,on ,sunday night he reached ,dunbar4 ,from darkened sky gleamed not a star2 ,the way he travelled o'er was drear1 ,made doubly so by ,scotchmen's fear4 ,at his approach like sheep they fled1 ,made frantic by an awful dread ,of red-hot irons1 spear1 and sword1 ,of breasts thrust thro'1 and bodies gored1 ,which they were told would be their lot ,when ,cromwell came4 ,so from each cot ,they bore away what pleased them best1 ,and to the flames consigned the rest4 ,but now ,dunbar is reached2 yet he ,finds himself in extremity2 ,midst swamps and bogs unfit to tent1 ,by ,lammermoor from hillside rent1 ,leslie in front defiant stands ,a noble army he commands ,of thousands two score seven1 or more1 ,ready on ,cromwell shot to pour4 ,behind the sea cut off retreat2 ,with such great odds can he compete8 ,the mountain sheep may safely tread ,the ,lammermoor1 but men may dread ,to cross this heath at any time2 ,much more now1 midst the rain and slime1 ,will ,cromwell with the smaller score ,dare to cross o'er to ,dunbar shore8 ,tho' shipped were half his guns and men ,the foe falls ere he turn again4 ,with foresight keen1 like one inspired1 ,he saw the end ere ,leslie fired4 ,,the ,,lord1 said he1 as rapt he stands1 ,,hath ,,given ,,them ,,into ,,our ,,hands6 ',tis the ninth month and second day1 ,a wild1 wet night1 historians say4 ,quit you like men1 and bravely stand2 ,death's wrestle now is close at hand2 ,heed not the hoarse sea's doleful moan1 ,as on the cliffs its waves are thrown4 ,think not of life nor kindred dear-- ,who goes to war should nothing fear ,but ,god1 whose eye-lids never sleep-- ,his ,israel ,he will safely keep4 ,oh1 pray6 but keep your powder dry-- ,your part do1 then on ,god rely4 ,stand to your arms the whole night thro' ,or lie awake with arms in view4 ,and you1 ye ,scots1 your lights blow out1 ,but stay not in your strong redoubt4 ',midst shocks of corn your shelter seek1 ,and rest in sleep2 your foe is weak1 ,yet ere another night comes 'round ,in deeper slumber shall be found ,full many of your stalwart host1 ,and stilled for aye their every boast4 ,in ,cromwell's camp all night was heard ,the voice of prayer in tones which stirred ,the tender hearts of ,ironside men1 ,as never can be told by pen4 ,ere shone the first faint streak of morn1 ,the ,scots beneath the shocks of corn1 ,stretched out full length in quiet sleep1 ,hear a loud blast1 and upward leap ,to seize their arms and face the foe4 ,too late the warning6 or1 too slow ,their movements when the trump was heard1 ,yet rang along the lines the word ,of battle-cry by ,leslie sent1 ,the ,covenant6 ,the ,covenant6 ,while high and strong was ,cromwell's boast1 ,the ,lord of ,hosts6 ,the ,lord of ,hosts6 ,with master skill he struck the blow1 ,and when shone out the crimson glow ,of morning sun upon the sea1 ,brave ,leslie's men began to flee4 ,they run6 ,oh1 ,i protest they run6 ,let ,god arise6 ,let ,god arise6 ,and scattered be ,his enemies6 ,loud ,cromwell cried4 ,the work was done4 ,then rose from ,england's host a cry ,which rent the very heavens on high4 ,now halt they on the battle field ,and to the ,lord their homage yield-- ,and sing this song with hearts devout3 ,o praise the ,lord1 ye nations all6 ,laud ,him all peoples on this ball6 ,his mercy toward us e'er is great2 ,his truth and grace for sinners wait1 ,let all the people shout6 ,,marston ,,moor ,the armies met on ,marston ,moor1 ',midst lightning's flash and thunder's roar2 ,as murky clouds sweep o'er the sky1 ,god's cannonade with man's will vie4 ,the ,royalists in phalanx strong1 ,by fiery ,rupert led along1 ,from ,bolton's cruel massacre ,towards ,york1 in hope to keep it free ,from the ,roundheads at any cost4 ,if ,york be lost1 my crown is lost-- ,wrote ,charles to this trusted chief1 ,and he must bring it prompt relief4 ,the foe's true strength he did not know1 ,but dazzled much by victory's glow ,he hoped with ease to overthrow ,the untrained volunteers2 ,nor did he for brave ,cromwell care1 ,tho' he had asked is ,cromwell there8 ,would not his grenadiers ,scatter those yeomen to their fields1 ,to hold their ploughs instead of shields8 ,thus confident of great success ,he asked his chaplain now to bless ,from ,god's own word their going out1 ,and seemed to hear the victor's shout1 ,while from the ranks of ,roundheads rose ,triumphant hymns1 ere came the blows4 ,now ,rupert madly dashes out1 ,god and the ,king6 his battle shout2 ,charges the parliamentary ranks ,in centre1 heedless of the flanks1 ,defeats ,lord ,fairfax and ,leven1 ,scatters like leaves their untrained men4 ,remorselessly he hewed them down1 ,and chased their leaders far from town4 ,but ,cromwell kept his men restrained ,till ,rupert thought the victory gained4 ,his eye was all ablaze with fire1 ,and burned his soul with righteous ire2 ,then sharp and passionate came the cry1 ,charge1 in the name of the ,most ,high6 ,his features now most clearly show ,a strange1 enthusiastic glow4 ,with zeal he wraps himself about1 ,and fires men's hearts with glance and shout4 ,for ,god and king1 is ,rupert's cry4 ,for truth and peace we dare to die6 ,shouts ,cromwell1 all the lines along1 ,which holds as with a mighty thong ,th' immortal hosts of ,puritans1 ,while on them fall the ,royal bans4 ,as ,roundheads1 ,rupert them derides2 ,not ,roundheads now1 but ,ironsides4 ,the heavens were black1 the storm still raged1 ,as tho' with earth a war it waged1 ,but raged a fiercer war just then1 ,not forces blind1 but men with men2 ,for two score thousand men were there2 ,and booming cannon rent the air4 ,the ,cavaliers were scattered wide1 ,brought to the dust their haughty pride2 ,across the beanfield ,rupert fled1 ,his standard gone1 his garments red2 ,his men by many hundreds turned ,to ask for mercy1 nor were spurned2 ,while he left all and to ,york sped1 ,heedless of stores1 or ,royal dead4 ,to ,cromwell's swords as stubble they1 ,and ,truth and ,peace had gained the day4 ,,oil ,,the ,,cricket ,mamma1 what noises do ,i hear8 ,they keep me wide awake4 ,the chirping crickets1 little dear2 ,what funny noise they make6 ,yes1 ma1 but touch their tongues with oil1 ,to take the squeak away2 ,for soon it will their voices spoil1 ,to squeak thus night and day4 ,well done1 my little girl of three2 ',twould tune our speaking gear ,to utter sweeter melody ,for your attentive ear1 ,if it were oiled a little1 too1 ,for harsh too oft its tones2 ,though formed to thrill with pleasure true1 ,it gives forth shrieks and groans1 ,which fall discordant on the ear1 ,and budding pleasures spoil1 ,and speaking gear1 likewise ,i fear2 ,so bring along the oil4 ,,the ,,real ,the leaf is faded1 and decayed the flower1 ,the birds have ceased to sing in wayside bower1 ,the babbling brook is silenced by the cold1 ,and hill and vale the frost and snow enfold4 ,the life we see seems hasting to the tomb ,nor sun1 nor star1 relieves the dismal gloom2 ,the good man suffers with the base and vile1 ,and honesty and truth give place to guile4 ,things are not always as they seem to be2 ,the outer surface only man may see4 ,the summer sleeps beneath the quilt of snow1 ,behind the clouds is hid the solar glow1 ,the babbling brook will burst its icy bands1 ,and birds will sing1 and trees will clap their hands4 ,the fallen leaf has left a bud behind1 ,and flowers will bloom of brightest hue and kind2 ,for when we look beneath the outward crust ,with vision clear1 and free from worldly lust1 ,we will behold a brighter world than this1 ,with less of curse and much of noble bliss2 ,for ,god's kind hand in all our conflicts here ,is clearly seen and doubts must disappear2 ,the end ,he has in view is most benign2 ,the fire will dross consume and gold refine4 ,,victory ,,gained ,,and ,,life ,,lost ,as fought the ,paladins of old1 ,with gleaming swords and spirit bold1 ,to thwart the schemes of base ,lothar1 ,give ,france to ,karl in holy war1 ,so would we battle for the right1 ,tho' we may perish in the fight4 ,our trusty blade1 not made of steel1 ,while wounding deep1 doth also heal2 ,with this1 and clad in ,christian mail1 ,the hosts of sin we would assail1 ,to gain the world for ,christ1 tho' we ,should fall while shouting victory6 ,,the ,,baptism ,,of ,,clovis ,five hundred years have nearly passed away ,since that glad morn1 when o'er fair ,bethl'hem's plain ,a light resplendent as the glow of day1 ,shone down from heaven1 and holy angels deign ,to sing the sweetest song e'er heard by mortal ear1 ,which fills sad hearts with joy and drives away their fear4 ,clovis1 of the brave ,franks1 the king1 and sheen1 ,heard from ,aurelian of a maid to wed1 ,matchless in feature1 and of graceful mein-- ,zenobia1 of the ,alps1 ,aurelian said1 ,the daughter of ,chilperic1 the ,burgundian king1 ,clotilda is her name2 fair maids her praises sing4 ,she dwells among the ,alps1 in forest glade1 ,and by the shore of its most famous lake2 ,but fairer than that land is this fair maid2 ,and brighter than its peaks at morn's awake2 ,a ,christian girl is she1 whose heart ,god has renewed1 ,and her fine1 comely mind with grace and truth embued4 ,then ,clovis1 by ,aurelian1 sent a ring ,to this fair damsel1 whom he hoped to wed2 ,she took the ring2 and soon fair songsters sing ,the marriage hymn1 as he to altar led ,this lovely ,christian maid4 ,they plight their nuptial vows2 ,and the old priest invoked a blessing on their brows4 ,then on her head a coronet was placed1 ,and she sat down by ,clovis on his throne2 ,and never was a throne so highly graced1 ,nor ever monarch felt less sad and lone2 ,he found in her a bride1 and counsellor1 as well1 ,and happy are the men who in her palace dwell4 ,in tones of eloquence and words of power1 ,the wond'rous story of the cross she told2 ,christ's lowly birth1 pure life1 and of the hour ,when ,he1 to bring us to the heavenly fold1 ,bore on the cross our sins1 and opened mercy's door1 ,then from the dead arose to reign for evermore4 ,soon on ,tolbiac's bloody field the king ,led on his troops against a mighty foe2 ,a foe too strong2 for soon1 though no weakling1 ,clovis retreats--his men returned no blow2 ,but fled as timid sheep before a beast of prey2 ,the conquering ,alemanni will surely win the day4 ,o king6 cry on ,clotilda's ,christ for aid6 ,shouted ,aurelian1 as the monarch fled2 ,then1 on his helmet1 ,clovis his hand laid1 ,and lifting it1 these words the monarch said3 ,my gods have failed to help3 ,o ,christ1 ,clotilda's ,god1 ,grant me ,thy mighty aid1 and ,i will kiss ,thy rod4 ,on the ,french pennons triumph perches now2 ,the foe is routed by ,clotilda's ,god2 ,and ,clovis wished to have upon his brow ,the symbol of her faith2 for 'neath the rod ,of the eternal ,king he bows his regal will1 ,and waits1 with heart devout1 ,christ's purpose to fulfil4 ,on ,rheims now dawns a cloudless ,christmas morn2 ,and flags of silk and satin grace each tower2 ,this is the day ,clotilda's ,christ was born1 ,and to ,his cause a great triumphal hour1 ,for see1 on carpet stretched from church to palace door1 ,a grand procession march1 of two-score priests or more6 ,remigius had led the way1 and then1 ,assisted by his priests1 on monarch's brow1 ,and on the brows of full six thousand men1 ,as they before the holy altar bow2 ,the water from the font he sprinkled down like rain1 ,thankful that his blest ,lord so many hearts should gain4 ,,the ,,water ,,lily ,this lovely lily1 so pure and white1 ,seems covered o'er with celestial light2 ,as if it grew on the ,tree of ,life1 ,and not down here1 in this world of strife2 ,too pure for earth it now seems to be2 ,my queenly wife1 it was meant for thee4 ,its wax-like petals with graceful bend1 ,drink in the sunbeams as they descend2 ,and lade with fragrance the heated air ,as it floats around us everywhere2 ,and the world grows better by its advent1 ,this lovely lily1 so kindly sent4 ,it rested once on its crystal bed2 ,neither wind1 nor wave1 occasioned dread2 ,admired by all as they passed it by1 ,though the contrast oft produced a sigh2 ,in purer soil than affords this earth ,this lovely lily must have had its birth4 ,dive down in search1 where the root is found2 ,in vain you look for the purer ground2 ,the root is fixed in the foulest mud2 ,and from it grows this pure lily bud2 ,while speckled frogs1 and the slimy eels1 ,around its roots find their daily meals4 ,as lilies fair from the foul mud grow1 ,so oft it is with good men below2 ,in daily life they absorb the pure1 ,and the adverse elements endure2 ,and rise1 through grace1 to a higher sphere1 ,their hearts in heaven1 and their root down here4 ,though foul the world where they have their growth1 ,unfit the soil1 and the climate both1 ,the blood of ,christ does their stains remove2 ,his power to keep they all daily prove2 ,as lilies pure are these plants of grace1 ,though growing now in so foul a place4 ,,he ,,shall ,,wipe ,,away ,,every ,,tear ,every tear that dims the eye1 ,or bedews the careworn cheek1 ,will our ,god1 who reigns on high1 ,with a hand so kind and meek1 ,wipe away1 nor leave a trace ,of its stain on eye or face4 ,he alone life's ills can right4 ,each ,his tender pity needs2 ,none are hidden from ,his sight2 ,every tear1 the promise reads-- ,every tear shall cease to flow1 ,cease1 likewise1 the cause of woe4 ,o may ,i in ,him confide ,while ,i tread this vale of tears6 ,walking closely by ,his side ,he will dissipate my fears1 ,and when ends the weary strife1 ,may ,i share the tearless life6 ,,the ,,taj ,,of ,,agra ,the ,shah ,jehan sat with his much-loved wife1 ,the ,empress ,mahal1 one hot summer day1 ,in a cool arbor far from courtly strife1 ,close by the ,jumna1 winding on its way4 ,in silence played they long their game of chess1 ,but ,jehan's eyes rose oft to ,mahal's brow1 ,his ardent love he could not well repress1 ,nor tried--she was his own rich jewel now4 ,he stayed the game to breathe some words of love ,and press her lips with lips that knew no guile1 ,and felt the thrill1 and peace like white-winged dove ,flew down1 and she repaid with loving smile4 ,then said1 ,what would you do if ,i should die8 ,he paused a moment1 some bright thought to woo1 ,and then1 in solemn tone1 made this reply3 ,this thing1 by ,allah's help1 ,i'll surely do3 ,i'll build upon the spot where we now sit ,the grandest tomb a woman ever had2 ,all sombre tints ,i deem would be unfit2 ,for never have such tints thy bosom clad4 ,of pure white marble shall its walls be built1 ,adorned with gold1 and earth's most costly gems2 ,each minaret shall glow like jewelled hilt1 ,sarcophagus surpass kings' diadems4 ,then to the world it shall the truth proclaim ,that ,moomtaza surpassed all woman kind1 ,and ,i esteemed her more than gold or fame3 ,thus cycles vast will find our names combined4 ,the summer breeze now sighed among the flowers ,as they play on with solemn thoughts2 and sweet ,as running brook passed by the pleasant hours1 ,and likewise passed the burning summer heat4 ,and like the fading day1 the ,empress1 too1 ,for scarce a year had passed ere set her sun1 ,but ,shah ,jehan1 to promise ever true1 ,thought of the tomb his loving wife had won4 ,no common architect would he engage2 ,from far and near he sought with eager heart4 ,at last there came one ,issa1 gifted sage1 ,whose plan pleased the great shah in whole and part4 ,on the same spot where they that day had played ,the game of chess1 and he the promise gave1 ,the massive stone foundation strong was laid1 ,on which would rest a palace o'er her grave4 ,then ,issa disappeared1 but where1 none knew2 ,cast in the ,jumna stream1 by foes1 some thought4 ,they dragged the stream1 nor came the slightest clue1 ,and on his fate the oracles were dumb4 ,the years rolled by1 yet ,jehan rested not1 ,tho' hope1 so long delayed1 engendered gloom1 ,content to live himself in any cot2 ,but no inferior hand must touch her tomb4 ,seven years had gone1 when ,issa came again1 ,and offered this excuse for his delay1 ,the soil is spongy all along this glen-- ,to have it settle ,i have stayed away4 ,i now can build on base that will not sink1 ,though pierced the clouds which bend so kindly down1 ',twere fit this long delay1 dost thou not think8 ,so chide me not nor on thy servant frown4 ,then on this base as firm as granite rock1 ,he built its walls as fair as falling snow1 ,and built them well1 nor storm1 nor earthquake shock ,has moved1 tho' built two hundred years ago4 ,for ten long years wrought twenty thousand men1 ,while many thousand carts the marble drew2 ,and proud ,jehan told o'er his love again2 ,to love so ,jacob-like the years seemed few4 ,from every part of his domain they brought ,rare gems and precious stones of every hue2 ,skilled hands1 in form of birds and flowers inwrought ,in snow-white walls1 these gems the building through1 ,the name of ,god1 one hundred times save one1 ,on the sarcophagus1 by cunning hand1 ,then lined with gold ere they pronounced it done2 ,but then the grandest tomb in any land4 ,by ,titans built1 it seems1 as mountain high ,of pure white marble1 based on pink sandstone2 ,in length it is a thousand feet well nigh1 ,its width three hundred feet by measure shown4 ,it seems a temple of the living ,one1 ,though tomb to hide the dust of ,jehan's queen4 ,it serves each purpose well--her course was run1 ,returned to ,god1 love must the dust ensheen4 ,to many hearts it speaks of ,god and rest1 ,and lifts our thoughts above the things of earth2 ,it teaches us that love will give its best1 ,and then regard its gifts of little worth4 ,,england',s ,,brave ,,sons ,the yeoman lays aside his soil-stained smock1 ,and from his herd selects a trusty steed1 ,and sallies forth to help in hour of need2 ,nor dreads the battle's shock4 ,the artisan from mine1 or shop1 or store1 ,responds at duty's call without delay1 ,nor stops to ask1 ,what will my nation pay8 ,it calls--what needs he more8 ,the man of law--the herald of the cross-- ,the painter1 skilled--he of the healing art-- ,the man of trade--come each with loyal heart1 ,nor calculates his loss4 ,but brave as these are those of noble birth2 ,genteel in manner1 but with athlete frames1 ,they do full honor to their ancient names1 ,and prove by deeds their worth4 ,palatial homes have they and wealth untold2 ,nor need to labor1 and no cause for fret1 ,but deeds of noble sires they ne'er forget2 ,deem honor more than gold4 ,brave lads are these on whom we may rely4 ,they go uncalled1 content the gaps to fill1 ,and in their places fall1 if ,god so will1 ,for they fear not to die4 ,the whole ,empire is loyal to the core4 ,from far-off ,east1 brave ,indians seek the fray1 ,and on ,french soil have clearly shown that they ,were true to flag they bore4 ,their old-time leader greets his men once more1 ,bestows his parting blessing ere his death1 ,and praised their valor with his final breath1 ,then crossed to other shore4 ,our own brave youth by thousands answer call1 ,and in our common cause enroll their names2 ,with cultured minds and well-developed frames ,they stand like granite wall4 ,for truth and brotherhood all face the foe2 ,themselves they cannot save1 but others may4 ,but1 live or die1 they hope to win the day4 ,to sacrifice they go6 ,,queen ,,victoria ,a ,prize ,birthday ,poem1 #ahhe4 ,we do not sing of vast domain-- ,empires as vast as ours are seen1 ,and o'er their millions despots reign2 ,we sing the virtues of our ,queen4 ,we think of her when but a maid ,the message came1 the ,king is dead6 ,and at her feet a crown was laid2 ,in deep distress of mind1 she said3 ,in my behalf ,i ask your prayers4 ,then falling on her knees to pray1 ,she told the ,lord her fears and cares1 ,and sought from ,him strength for her day4 ,he seemed to say1 ,child1 do not fear2 ,i will uphold thee with my hand1 ,and ,i will make thy pathway clear1 ,thy throne establish in the land4 ',twas thus began ,victoria's reign1 ,and ,god has made her throne secure2 ,her enemies will plot in vain1 ,for it is destined to endure4 ,but while she sits on regal throne1 ,and acts full well a regal part1 ,she reigns not on the throne alone1 ,she reigns to-day in ,england's heart4 ,her queenly heart with pity throbs ,for every suffering subject's woes2 ,in lowly cot1 'midst groans and sobs1 ,she like a ray of sunshine goes4 ,as sweet perfume by outward gale ,is carried far o'er sea and land1 ,so queenly virtues never fail ,to touch true hearts on every strand4 ,in every land1 her name is blest2 ,she is beloved by old and young2 ,from pole to pole1 from east to west1 ,the song1 ,god save the ,queen1 is sung4 ,through sorrows deep her path has led1 ,and tender ties have sundered been2 ,bright hopes were buried with her dead1 ,and love has kept their memory green4 ,by grief secluded from the world1 ,her path through lonely years she trod1 ,and oft her life has been imperilled2 ,but she has leaned upon her ,god4 ,and as she wept a nation's tears ,in heartfelt sympathy were shed2 ,forgetting their own griefs and biers1 ,they wept beside the royal dead4 ,with grateful hearts her natal day ,we loyal ,britons hail again1 ,and join with millions as they pray ,god bless our ,queen6 ,long may she reign6 ,and when at last life's glories fade1 ,and robes of state are laid aside1 ,when nature's debt to dust is paid ,and charms no more earth's pomp and pride1 ,may angel bands her spirit bear ,up to the palace of her ,king1 ,where she a fadeless crown shall wear1 ,and the new song with rapture sing4 ,,silver ,,tones ,a stately church by pious hands erected long ago1 ,was found to lack a vesper bell1 by which the poor might know ,the hour of prayer1 the hour of mass1 and who had lately died1 ,the hour when gent and bonny lass1 so timid at his side1 ,would stand before the surpliced priest1 and twain would pledge their troth1 ,the hour in which the priest would vent on heretic his wrath4 ,the faithful then were called upon to bring from home and mine ,the metal for the holy bell1 which must be strong and fine4 ,in smelting pot of massive size they placed the needed ore2 ,a molten mass it soon became1 but ere in mould they pour1 ,and thus provide a bell for ,god to grace ,his temple fair1 ,in crowds the people came1 to see the metal glowing there4 ,then as they passed1 with hearts devout1 each took a silver coin ,and dropped it in the glowing mass--no priest did this enjoin4 ,they wished to show their grateful love to ,him who bore their sin2 ,a simple form which love took on1 not done ,god's grace to win4 ,nor did they hope to win applause from priest and saintly friar2 ,if ,god were pleased they asked no more1 nor more did they desire2 ,nor did they deem their silver lost1 though little dreamed they then ,the grand result of their small gifts1 which now is known to men4 ,their coins were for a moment seen1 like flakes of snow on sward1 ,and then they melted out of sight1 yet1 seen by their blest ,lord1 ,they mingled with the glowing mass1 and when in high church tower ,the bell was hung and daily rung1 all people felt its power4 ,its booming tones were soft and sweet1 and echoed o'er their hills ,in a grand symphony of praise1 subduing all their wills1 ,and calling forth from old and young a burst of rapturous praise4 ,their gifts1 though small1 were not despised2 ,god turned them into lays4 ,this world is one great smelting pot in which life's ore is cast1 ,and from it ,god will some day bring a bell1 destined to last ,and ring aloud in thunder tones wherever man is found4 ,oh1 may we1 by kind words and deeds1 give it a silver sound6 ,each word though short1 each deed though small1 if for the ,master's sake ,are said and done1 like silver coin1 our blessed ,lord will take1 ,and skillfully will blend them with the coarser ore of earth1 ,and grander music none have heard e'er since time had its birth4 ,then from this bell of silver tone will sound o'er hill and vale3 ,the work men do in ,jesus' name is never known to fail4 ,,god',s ,,order ,every flower that decks the way1 ,whether it be dun or gay1 ,fills a place in ,god's great plan1 ,serving ,him1 while pleasing man4 ,every star that gilds the night ,with its beams of silver light ,has its mission to fulfil1 ,as assigned it by ,god's will4 ,feathered songsters all declare ,as they cleave the ambient air1 ,he who made us made our lays1 ,giving each a note of praise2 ,each one's note1 unique and sweet1 ,helps to make the song complete2 ,various tones1 yet all agree1 ,forming one grand symphony4 ,so1 also1 does ,god's own hand ,fix in place each grain of sand1 ,tiny though that grain may be ,hangs on it the destiny ,of a world1 yea1 systems whole1 ,as they in their orbits roll2 ,should it from its globe remove1 ,worlds would clash and chaos prove4 ,when we reach the world of mind ,law and order still we find2 ,in ,god's purpose is a plan ,for the life of every man4 ,free1 he may his own course choose1 ,help divine through pride refuse1 ,but disorder will ensue-- ,life a wreck6 ,yet ,god is true4 ,,influence ,in gentle showers the rain descends1 ,and softly falls the dew4 ,the dewdrop with the raindrop blends2 ,the tiny stream they form then wends ,its way the grasses through4 ,and kindred streams with it combine ,and form a rivulet2 ,then on it runs like trailing vine1 ,lays bare the roots of oak and pine1 ,and other brooks are met4 ,the swelling stream meanders on1 ,gives power to busy mills1 ,and bears huge ships its breast upon1 ,gives drink to kine and lovely fawn1 ,and drinks up other rills4 ,a lady's foot had changed its course1 ,and drank it dry a lamb1 ,had they but sought it at its source2 ,but now it rushes on with force ,and leaps the mighty dam4 ,thus is it with our influence here2 ,each look1 each word1 each deed1 ,is like the rain1 or dewdrop clear-- ,though tiny things they now appear1 ,they to the ocean lead4 ,as grains of sand make up the hill ,which towers above the plain1 ,and drops combine to swell the rill ,which helps the mighty sea to fill1 ,so does our influence gain4 ,,undecaying ,,fruit ,doomed to decay are all things here2 ,whate'er their form or worth1 ,color and beauty disappear1 ,or turn to mother earth4 ,the luscious fruits which please the taste ,and please the eye as well1 ,sometimes reduced to rot and waste1 ,ere from the tree they fell-- ,some gathered with a gentle hand1 ,and stored away with care1 ,to serve a place in banquet grand1 ,some favorite peach or pear1 ,is found diseased in skin and core1 ,and loathsome to the sight1 ,when 'tis too late to gather more1 ,and comes the festal night4 ,so is it with all earthly joy-- ,it pleases for a time1 ,as toy may please a growing boy1 ,though costing but a dime2 ,but soon he tires and asks for more1 ,appropriate to his age2 ,so1 though a man may higher soar ,and greater aims engage ,his active mind1 he1 like the child1 ,soon looks for something new4 ,too oft are men by this beguiled ,and fail to find the true4 ,but he who goes to ,christ for rest1 ,finds fruit that ne'er decays4 ,he sups with ,christ as welcome guest1 ,and glory crowns his days4 ,,the ,,heroes ,,of ,,our ,,day ,heroic deeds in every age ,command the world's esteem2 ,each finds a place in history's page1 ',midst gloom a glory beam4 ,and we full oft revert to this1 ,to show man's true descent ,from ,him who is the source of bliss1 ,tho' now by passions rent4 ,but we need not consult the past2 ,the present bears this fruit3 ,the hero race will ever last2 ,the tree is sound at root4 ,and never has the world excelled ,the present in this line2 ,our loving ,lord has not withheld ,from us this trait divine4 ,and we should not from them withhold ,the praise we feel is due ,for deeds of love1 and actions bold1 ,for spirit kind and true4 ,their worth we now should recognize1 ,not chant it o'er their graves2 ,the hero of the past we prize1 ,no less the man who braves ,the dangers of the present hour1 ,the sneers which now are rife1 ,not for the sake of earthly power1 ,nor yet to save his life4 ,but for the good of fellow man1 ,and for his ,master's sake1 ,he shuns no cross1 and fears no ban2 ',tis these a hero make4 ,,the ,,big ,,bear ,,creek ,the waters of the ,big ,bear creek ,glide slowly on their way2 ,the western lakes they surely seek1 ,which they will reach some day2 ,but sluggishly they seek their end-- ,they scarcely seem to move2 ,yet through the fields and round each bend ,their progress daily prove4 ,by debris borne upon their breast1 ,and strewn along each shore1 ,they slowly move1 but never rest1 ,yet turbid evermore4 ,but when they reach the ,johnson bend ,and the ,sni ,chartna meet1 ,the turbid and the sky-blue blend-- ,the union is complete4 ,and soon is lost all trace of mud2 ,of azure tint the whole2 ,with heaven's own hue the rolling flood ,has gained the long-sought goal4 ,so is it with the soul renewed ,while on its heaven-bound way1 ,with grace divine it is embued1 ,yet shows the trace of clay4 ,and though to rest it never halts1 ,its progress is so slow2 ,alas1 it has too many faults1 ,nor much of heavenly glow4 ,but when ,god's sanctifying grace ,shall meet it from above1 ,you seek in vain for sinful trace-- ,it now is full of love4 ,a new impulse it then receives ,which speeds it on its way2 ,to it no stain of sin now cleaves-- ,it seeks its perfect day4 ,and as the azure stream has found ,its home in brimming lake1 ,so shall the soul thus heavenward bound ,of ,god's own joy partake4 ,,the ,,frost ,,on ,,the ,,window ,feathery frost on the window-pane1 ,who placed you there8 ,i cannot explain1 ,each little feather at once replied2 ,but this ,i know1 ,i'm the children's pride1 ,as they think ,i fell from an angel's wing1 ,and coming to earth must rich blessings bring4 ,i once formed part of a lovely bay2 ,the sun shone out1 and ,i turned to spray1 ,and rose aloft on the ambient air1 ,to the regions high where all is rare2 ,then ,i mingled with my old friends again1 ,who were my neighbors in the haunts of men4 ,on the blustering wind1 ,i rode along1 ,sometimes hard tossed by the tempest strong1 ,and then at rest1 as when in the bay1 ,though much enlarged1 the wise savants say2 ,though ,i cannot tell you how long my sleep1 ,with a chill ,i woke and began to weep4 ,and my ample form much smaller grew1 ,by the cold compressed to a drop of dew2 ,then down ,i fell1 swift as bounding deer1 ,and knew no more till ,i fell right here2 ,but how ,i became so like a feather ,is problem ,i can unravel never4 ,but1 oh1 how the sun begins to burn6 ,i think ,i must to the clouds return4 ,farewell1 my boy6 but you must not fret2 ,we meet again1 as we now have met1 ,if not as a feather1 perhaps a tree1 ,or whatever the ,wise ,one may make of me4 ,,wilt ,,thou ,,harass ,a ,,driven ,,leaf8 ,o harass not a driven leaf1 ,nor stubble dry in wrath pursue2 ,a life so brief load not with grief1 ,nor with thine arrow pierce me through4 ,the fragile leaf1 by tempest tost1 ,is scarcely worth a passing thought2 ,the brook is crossed1 and then is lost2 ,there let it lie1 a thing of naught4 ,the stubble dry ne'er grows again2 ,to golden grain it gave its sap4 ,it died1 and then 'twas left by men ,to rot betimes1 or some mishap4 ,am ,i not like the stubble dry ,and fragile leaf by tempest strewed8 ,must ,i not die1 then tell me why ,a thing so frail is thus pursued8 ,a voice replies3 ,thy life is frail1 ,much like the leaf and stubble dry2 ,thy strength must fail1 and as the gale ,bears them away1 so must thou die2 ,but live again1 in bliss1 or pain2 ,for death to man does not end all2 ,life is not vain1 if thou but gain ,a home in heaven1 when ,i shall call6 ,to fit thy soul for endless rest1 ,i harass now the driven leaf1 ,but though sore pressed and grief distressed1 ,the life of sorrow will be brief4 ,and when released from suffering clay1 ,thy blood-bought spirit shall arise ,to endless day4 ,then thou shalt say1 ,the ways of ,god are good and wise4 ,a ,,gem ,the gem is not this ode itself2 ,hardly can it aspire so high4 ,earth has its gems2 but all its wealth1 ,increased by thousands1 cannot buy ,man's soul1 the gem of priceless worth1 ,made in ,god's image at its birth2 ,ordained to live for evermore2 ,redeemed by blood from sin and hell2 ,transformed by grace1 ,god's love to tell2 ,and at ,his feet its homage pour4 ,lordly are its endowments1 too2 ,superb its destiny1 if true2 ,only below1 said one who knew1 ,unfallen angels round ,god's throne4 ,lord1 may this gem be ,thine alone4 ,,the ,,clouds ,a grand stairway do these clouds appear ,as they heavenward rise1 tier upon tier1 ,with clearly-marked space of blue between1 ,compared with which human art looks mean4 ,do the angels tread this grand staircase1 ,when they come to earth to bless our race1 ,and lend their aid to each struggling soul ,as he ascends toward the heavenly goal8 ,was this the ladder by ,jacob seen1 ,that reached from heaven to the mattress green ,on which he lay all the lonely night ,till ,god afforded the blessed sight1 ,and made him feel1 tho' an exile here1 ,his father's ,god would be ever near-- ,the servant's cry would to heaven arise1 ,and blessings fall from the bending skies8 ,but no staircase do the angels need2 ,they come to earth at a greater speed1 ,not step by step1 nor on eagle's wing1 ,nor beams of light do their message bring4 ,though heaven be far beyond mortal ken1 ,assisted by all the arts of men1 ,a moment's time and the space is passed1 ,and heaven's best gifts at our feet are cast4 ,not a cloud stairway1 nor ladder long1 ,connects this earth with the land of song2 ,the ,saviour bends from the opening skies-- ,he smiles in love1 and our souls arise4 ,as flakes of steel to the magnet fly1 ,and mists ascend to the sun on high1 ,so we are drawn by the cords of love ,from the earth below to thrones above4 ,o lift me up from my bed of clay1 ,to dwell with ,thee in the realms of day4 ,if 'tis ,thy will ,i should tarry still1 ,prepare me1 ,lord1 for ,thy ,holy ,hill4 ,,the ,,mosses ,exquisite mosses1 so lovely and green1 ,covering the rocks with emerald sheen2 ,hiding the scars which convulsions have made2 ,blessing the mound where our angel was laid2 ,forming a carpet on which we may tread2 ,clothing with beauty the rotten and dead2 ,sheathing from storm-blasts the young forest tree-- ,beautiful mosses1 examples for me4 ,trod under foot by all kinds of men2 ,gracing the mountain or hid in the fen2 ,never adorning the brow of the fair2 ,seldom deemed worthy some corner to share ,in the bouquets that are cast in the way ,princely feet tread on reception's proud day2 ,the glory of roses do not attain2 ,beautiful mosses1 ye grow not in vain4 ,answer the end by your ,maker designed4 ,humble your bloom1 but your mission is kind4 ,those will most prize you who knew you the best4 ,cover me o'er when ,i lie down to rest2 ,cover1 likewise1 in the marble my name1 ,hiding forever that index of shame2 ,but tell to the world1 as life he passed through1 ,he covered some scars and aimed to be true4 ,,the ,,grandest ,,theme ,the grandest theme for tongue1 or pen1 ,is not the heavens supernal2 ,nor mighty deeds of ,god-like men1 ,though they may be eternal2 ,nor ,alpine heights1 nor lovely vale1 ,with brooks and grazing cattle2 ,nor awful roar of rushing gale1 ,beyond the noise of battle2 ,nor clashing arms1 nor trembling earth2 ,nor heaving waves of ocean2 ,nor record of a nation's birth2 ,nor heaven's cloud-cars in motion4 ,the grandest theme1 for tongue1 or pen1 ,above all else in glory2 ,which suits alike1 all sinful men1 ,is the sweet ,gospel story1 ,which tells me of my ,saviour's love ,and infinite compassion1 ,which brought ,him from ,his throne above ,to ,calvary's cross and passion4 ,and now the holy angels sing1 ,with blood-washed souls in glory1 ,a song which makes heaven's arches ring ,about this ,gospel story4 ,,september ,the hills are clad in purple and in gold1 ,the ripened maize is gathered in the shock1 ,the frost has kissed the nuts1 their shells unfold1 ,and fallen leaves are floating on the lock4 ,the flowers their many-colored petals drop2 ,but seed-pods full and ripe they leave behind1 ,a prophecy of more abundant crop1 ,and proof that nature in decay is kind4 ,but still the dahlia blooms1 and pansies1 too2 ,the golden-rod still rears its yellow crest4 ,the sumach bobs are now of crimson hue1 ,the luscious grape has donned its purple vest4 ,the forest trees1 so long arrayed in green1 ,wear now a robe like ,joseph's coat of old1 ,brighter than that on eastern satrap seen1 ,tho' clad was he in purple and fine gold4 ,the woodbine twined about the giant oak ,blends with its purple-red a brighter shade4 ,co-mingled thus our praises they evoke1 ,tho' we know well this glory soon must fade4 ,the fields are green with grass and new-sown wheat1 ,tho' here and there a brown stalk may appear1 ,a dying rag-weed1 ripened by the heat1 ,to reproduce an hundred-fold next year4 ,the melon yellows in the kindly sun1 ,the peach puts on its blush like virtuous maid1 ,the gourd its snow-white band like brow of nun1 ,while flower and gum the air with fragrance lade4 ,the swallows gather on the fence and wire1 ,chatter a loud farewell to barn and nest1 ,and then on wings which never seem to tire ,they fly away in southern bowers to rest4 ,the thrush no longer sings its tender song ,in osage thicket1 or in locust hedge1 ,but pipes its notes the negro boys among1 ,on cotton plant1 or ,alabama sedge4 ,the blackbird lingers by the flowing brook1 ,or perches proudly on the shock of corn2 ,the lark still hovers round its meadow nook1 ,and soars and sings as on a vernal morn4 ,the robin1 too1 is loth to quit the lawn ,and visits yet his nest beneath the eaves2 ,i hear his cheering notes at early dawn-- ,to part with these old friends my spirit grieves4 ,but soon these feathered songsters must away1 ,ere winter's frosts shall chill them thro' and thro'2 ,in other lands they find the summer day1 ,the opening flower1 and the refreshing dew4 ,the air1 tho' chill1 is not surcharged with death1 ,but health-inspiring germs it bears along4 ,we drink in vigor with our every breath1 ,and life appears like spring1 each day a song4 ,god spreads a carpet for our weary feet1 ,richer than those which grace the palace floor2 ,the rainbow hues are in it all complete1 ,and tints1 ,i think1 of full a thousand more4 ,god with ,his hands of wind for woof collects ,the forest leaves1 and weaves them with the grass1 ,with nap of richest hues the fabric decks1 ,and spreads it out for feet of every class4 ,a haze at times may veil the smiling sky1 ,the sun his golden locks exchange for gray2 ,but soon a western blast comes sweeping by-- ,the mists depart1 and glory crowns the day4 ,the lowing cattle roam from field to field2 ,no more content in narrow bounds to stay2 ,the ozone in the autumn air has healed ,their every ill1 and lo1 the dull beasts play4 ,this season has its lesson each should learn-- ,the fading leaf reminds us of our doom2 ,but whether like the stately tree1 or fern1 ,in hope we travel onward to the tomb4 ,we look not for the ,winter1 but the ,spring1 ,when we shall glow in beauty from the skies2 ,each now his tribute sheaf of praise should bring1 ,then hear his ,lord's ,well done6 ,o glorious prize4 ,,the ,,flowers ,some flowers are brighter far in hue ,than others by their side1 ,but ,god baptizes all with dew1 ,and spreads ,his mantle wide ,to cover all for half the day1 ,from rays of scorching sun1 ,though some may shine in colors gay1 ,and some in sober dun4 ,and ,i account each one my friend1 ,the stately and the plain4 ,diverse their hue1 but not their end2 ,for me none bloom in vain2 ,for all proclaim their ,maker's skill1 ,and point to bloom above2 ,in ,god's great plan their part fulfil1 ,and whisper ,god is love4 ,the fragrance lades the summer air ,with health-inspiring germs1 ,ascend on high as nature's prayer1 ,suggesting well the terms ,of ,god-accepted prayer from man1 ,odors of grateful praise2 ,for though in penitence began1 ,it ends in joyful lays4 ,,the ,,bud ,the winter through ,i lay asleep1 ,unconscious and unseen2 ,the howling winds disturbed me not1 ,nor felt the frost tho' keen4 ,thick blankets covered me about1 ,and kept me dry and warm1 ,and weeks and months passed quickly by ,and ,i received no harm4 ,at last ,i felt uneasy in ,my cosy little cot1 ,tho' it was lined with softest down4 ,the cause ,i knew not what4 ,i struggled hard to free myself1 ,but struggled all in vain2 ,my blankets felt the strain1 'tis true1 ,and opened to the rain1 ,but just enough for me to see ,the frowning sky o'erhead2 ,i closed my eyes1 in sad affright1 ,and wished that ,i was dead4 ,but soon a change came o'er my frame1 ,much like electric shock2 ,oh1 how ,i longed for some rare key ,with which ,i might unlock ,my prison door1 for ,i now felt ,the breath of coming ,spring1 ,and heard1 likewise1 her merry laugh1 ,like silver bells its ring4 ,my lips were close to blanket rent1 ,i ceased my useless strife1 ,and she bent over me in love1 ,and kissed me into life4 ,,beautiful ,,sky ,o beautiful sky of every hue2 ,golden and purple1 crimson and blue1 ,with some sombre lines thrown in between1 ,and some bright spots of emerald green4 ,the earth is wed to the sun it seems1 ,and to grace the robe of his royal bride ,no pains are spared1 nor a tint untried1 ,and thus complete it with glory gleams4 ,he wields his brush as an artist now2 ,lo beauty glows on the earth's fair brow6 ,and the lovely flowers at once arise ,to match the glow of the radiant skies1 ,the sparkling dewdrops at morn are seen1 ,close nestling among the petals rare1 ,like crystal studs in a maiden's hair1 ,brighter then gems which adorn a queen4 ,,buttercups ,,and ,,daisies ,buttercups and daisies growing everywhere1 ,in the field of clover1 on the hillside fair1 ,and in lovely valley1 tilled with greatest care4 ,naught but weeds and rubbish1 in the farmer's eyes1 ,drawing off the nurture from the grain they prize1 ,and their great luxuriance sore their patience tries4 ,but the dews of heaven give them richest bloom1 ,and their smiling beauty drives away our gloom2 ,for such little beauties surely there is room4 ,in this world of sorrow flowers ne'er bloom in vain1 ,though they in their blooming sap the golden grain1 ,and drink in the moisture of the latter rain2 ,for our ,heavenly ,father deemed it wise and good ,to diffuse this beauty with the grain for food4 ,and this wise arrangement ,he has never rued4 ,teaching us this lesson we are slow to learn2 ,man lives not for eating1 nor for duties stern1 ,but to serve ,god's pleasure1 then to ,him return4 ,room for joy is given and for purest bliss1 ,and we may all find them in a world like this1 ,if our aims are sordid all this gold we miss2 ,but if we are faithful and to ,god inclined1 ,seeing ,him in nature1 and of heavenly mind1 ,aiming to be like ,him1 and by grace refined1 ,we shall live forever where there is no gloom2 ,though the path to glory leadeth through the tomb2 ,but a moment's darkness--flowers that ever bloom4 ,,the ,,moss ,,rose ',tis said1 long since an angel came to earth1 ,sent by his ,lord1 to help with loving hand ,a suffering one1 afflicted from his birth4 ,the limb was healed as by divine command1 ,but ,he felt weak1 for strength from ,him had gone1 ,a sacrifice which love could not withhold2 ,so he sought shelter till the morning dawn1 ,but none received--they prized not love1 but gold4 ,then 'neath a rose bush did the angel lie1 ,and rested well until the break of day1 ,when much refreshed he sought his home on high1 ,but ere he started on his upward way1 ,he said to sheltering rose1 in loving voice1 ,what man refused thou hast afforded me4 ,what is thy wish8 ,make known to me thy choice2 ,the ,god of love and power will grant it thee6 ,i ask no brighter hue1 the rose replied1 ,both old and young smile on me as they pass1 ,my buds adorn the bosom of the bride1 ,and hide among the locks of lovely lass2 ,with fragrance1 too1 ,i own myself content1 ,for naught on earth surpasses me in this2 ,but if1 indeed1 my ,maker thee has sent ,i ask but this1 to consummate my bliss3 ,i feel the cold1 both in my bark and bud1 ,when ,autumn winds sweep o'er the western hill1 ,and frozen dewdrops oft my branches stud1 ,which mar my beauty and my juices chill4 ,give me an extra garb1 'tis all ,i lack4 ,thou hast thy wish1 ,i shelter found in thee1 ,i take delight in kind to pay thee back4 ,let softest moss thy extra garment be4 ,then touched the angel bark1 and bud1 and leaf1 ,and soft green moss suffused it o'er and o'er4 ,he lingered near it for a moment brief1 ,plucked off a bud1 which he to heaven bore2 ,and now the rose smiles at the raging storm1 ,defies the wind and nipping frost as well2 ,its fragrance still retains1 and lovely form1 ,while nestling budlets this old story tell4 ,,god',s ,,care ,i fear not1 my ,father1 the tempest's loud roar1 ,nor dread the huge breakers on the rock-girded shore2 ,thy presence is with me1 my refuge is near1 ,with help all-sufficient2 oh1 why should ,i fear8 ,tho' billows of sorrow should roll o'er my head1 ,my sun sink in darkness1 and joys be all dead1 ,thy presence will cheer me1 and spectres will flee1 ,for who can molest me while trusting in thee8 ,,my ,,lot ,my lot on earth is not all mirth1 ,nor is it constant gloom2 ,some joys decay and fall away1 ,but leave much lasting bloom4 ,my wishes are not always met1 ,and cares press hard at times2 ,yet joyous strains ne'er sink to fret1 ,tho' dollars shrink to dimes4 ,my earthly lot boasts not a cot1 ,no foot of land ,i own1 ,no bank account nor phosphate mount1 ,nor credit for a loan2 ,but ,i can read my title clear ,to mansion1 robe1 and crown2 ,i couple these with lot down here1 ,and sing1 tho' foes may frown4 ,,god',s ,,foot ,,on ,,the ,,cradle ,the air is chill with the frost of doubt1 ,and men's hearts are sadly failing2 ,they do not hear the great ,victor's shout2 ,but indulge in bitter wailing4 ,the old gives place to the new1 they say1 ,and fond hopes are daily buried2 ,our cherished views are oft borne away1 ,as if by the tempest hurried4 ,the world is stirred to its very heart1 ,and the ,church shares the commotion2 ,with systems old1 we are loathe to part1 ,to sail on an unknown ocean4 ,the world now heaves like the great sea's breast1 ,and rocks like an infant's cradle2 ,and looking up1 by sore grief oppressed1 ,we find the sky draped in sable4 ,i will not fear1 though the earth should rock1 ,if ,god's foot be on the cradle2 ,but rest in peace midst the tempest's shock1 ,rejoicing that ,god is able ,to still the world with ,his mighty hand1 ,if ,his timid child should waken2 ,or1 if it rock1 ,he will by me stand2 ,and my heart shall not be shaken4 ,,god',s ,,gifts ,,to ,,be ,,enjoyed ,from ,god's all bounteous hand descend ,rare gifts in rich effusion1 ,and with those gifts no poisons blend1 ,nor is their end delusion2 ,so do not spurn if ,he bestow ,those forms arrayed in beauty2 ,if thus ,his gifts with radiance glow1 ,enjoyment is a duty4 ,come1 deck your brows with leaves and flowers1 ,ye fair ones1 nothing fearing2 ,adorn your homes and train your bowers ,nor deem this sin's appearing2 ,we do not fit ourselves for bliss ,by scorning all adorning2 ,we may enjoy the good of this ,and share heaven's brighter morning4 ,a garment plain may have its stain1 ,and saintly brows lack sweetness2 ,but he who would heaven's glory gain ,must here acquire a meetness2 ,so eat and drink1 rejoice and sing1 ,but don't forget the ending2 ,the bells of earth more sweetly ring ,if we are heavenward tending4 ,the world we use1 but not abuse1 ,if we enjoy its beauty2 ,and they who all its joys refuse ,miss privilege and duty4 ,then prize earth's joys1 but prize much more ,the bloom beyond the river2 ,god's gifts enjoy1 but e'er adore ,the ever blessed ,giver4 ,,the ,,highest ,,goal ,the highest goal is not success1 ,if that be made the aim2 ,but faithfulness1 tho' counted less1 ,is what ,god promises to bless3 ,these goals are not the same4 ,and if ,i am to do my best ,in every line of life1 ,my effort will be surely blest1 ,and ,i will find in toil sweet rest1 ,tho' in a world of strife4 ,and when before the throne ,i stand ,to answer for the use ,of gifts received from ,god's own hand1 ,he will not then1 in wrath1 demand ,from me some strong excuse1 ,to show why ,i had not attained ,the goal of grand success1 ,such as some noted men have gained1 ,for if my work is not sin-stained ,god will my failures bless4 ,and ,i will hear ,him say1 ,my son1 ,a throne thou hast attained2 ,without applause thy race was run1 ',midst failures oft thy work was done1 ,life's highest goal is gained4 ,,joy ,,in ,,the ,,morning ,the night of affliction1 with its long hours of sadness1 ,will soon pass away to be remembered no more2 ,and the weeping will end in a morning of gladness2 ,for no sorrow is known on the evergreen shore4 ,in this world we shall have tribulation and sorrow2 ',tis enough for the subject to be as his king2 ,but if we are faithful1 joy will come with the morrow1 ,and with the blood-washed a new song shall we sing4 ,,he ,,shall ,,dwell ,,on ,,high 7,isaiah #cc3af7 ,tossed about in strange commotion ,like the surface of the ocean ,when the wind1 its waters lashing1 ,sends great billows1 roaring1 dashing ,o'er the breakers1 which for ages ,have withstood the storms it wages1 ,see those clouds1 so like this ocean1 ,how they whirl in strange commotion4 ,dust and vapor now are meeting1 ,each the other wildly greeting2 ,as one hand another grasping1 ,so are these each other clasping2 ,now they whirl in form fantastic ,and great trees with boughs elastic ,with loud moans are lowly bending1 ,leaves and fruit to earth descending4 ,eyes 'most blinded1 nerves all shaken1 ,by this fearful storm o'ertaken1 ,as it swept on toward the sunrise2 ,yet1 ,i chanced to lift my dim eyes ,upward1 when1 ,o sight entrancing1 ,i beheld1 to west advancing1 ,other clouds1 in higher current1 ,unlike earth's1 so wild and errant4 ,far above the wild commotion1 ,like great ships on peaceful ocean1 ,floating westward1 grand and steady1 ,were those clouds1 as if made ready1 ,as great cars1 with grand pavilions1 ,to convey the ransomed millions ,from this earth where storms are raging ,to that land of charms engaging4 ,life on earth is a probation2 ,storms fit well in this relation2 ,yet1 above1 are peaceful regions1 ,where ne'er come hell's dreaded legions4 ,looking toward the things eternal1 ,we may rise to realms supernal1 ,where earth's dust will not defile us ,nor the cunning foe beguile us4 ,to this higher plain1 ,o lift me1 ,gracious ,lord6 ere ,satan sift me1 ,far above this noisy ,babel2 ,far above earth's clouds1 all sable2 ,up so far no darts can reach me1 ,where the ,holy ,ghost will teach me2 ,and1 in perfect peace abiding1 ,i will sing while heavenward riding6 ,,bag ,,your ,,game ,two men1 well versed in use of arms1 ,set out1 'tis said1 in search of game4 ,each felt that hunting had its charms1 ,yet widely differed they in aim4 ,both felt their need of wholesome food ,for present use and winter's store2 ,but one was of a careless mood-- ,than the day's sport he asked no more4 ,no game he bagged from morn till night1 ,content to show his master skill ,in hitting every bird at sight1 ,and shooting down the deer at will4 ,grand sport he deemed it1 day by day1 ,as in the tangled forest brake ,he brought the bounding stag to bay1 ,or shot the wood-duck in the lake4 ,as he each night to home returned ,he sang the pleasure of the chase2 ,but had not yet the lesson learned ,that he was loser in the race4 ,yet1 when sat in the winter's cold ,and game had fled to warmer clime1 ,he had no stock to sell for gold1 ,nor food3 and past his harvest time4 ,the chase the other prized as well2 ,but bagged his game as best he could1 ,and thus had lots of pelts to sell-- ,for self and wife the choicest food4 ,in the pursuit of game a thrill ,of keenest joy shot through his heart2 ,but joy complete he knew not till ,he went his way joy to impart4 ,while he with wife and children shared ,the roasted duck and venison1 ,he felt he as a king had fared2 ,and though of earth a denizen1 ,such food would give both strength and cheer ,to meet lifes daily toil aright1 ,and winter months he did not fear1 ,his larder filled1 and prospect bright4 ,the search for ,truth with pleasure thrills2 ,to find it1 we our end attain-- ,possessed1 new joy the spirit fills1 ,and to retain is highest gain4 ,the pleasure of pursuit is lost ,if truth itself is not secured4 ,o buy the truth at any cost1 ,and from your aim be not allured6 ,,others' ,,burdens ,my greatest grief is not my own2 ,that often proves a blessing1 ,for in my grief ,god's care is shown1 ,and as ,i am not left alone1 ,it never proves distressing2 ,but when my brother's grief ,i bear ,the weight then seems excessive2 ,his heavy load ,i inly share1 ,and loaded down by double care1 ,my burden feels oppressive4 ,yet ,i remember ,him who bore ,the world's great load of sorrow1 ,and know that ,he on me will pour ,the needed grace to bear the more1 ,to-day and on the morrow4 ,,memory ,remembrance of the past will joy impart ,if in that past the conscience was supreme2 ,but if the soul be made an auction mart1 ,and thoughts and deeds be sold for what you deem ,the price of virtue1 then the called-up past ,will be like hooks of steel to hold thee fast4 ,or like the stings those nettles left behind ,which ,i so fondly handled in my play2 ,i deemed the friend who warned me true and kind1 ,and in great haste ,i threw the weeds away1 ,but soon the burning flesh reminded me ',twere safer far from all such weeds to flee4 ,the cloud that flitted o'er the saintly brow ,which now a crown of life so well adorns1 ,when you by ways and means you know not now1 ,did what your soul with holy horror scorns1 ,will stay with you long as you live on earth1 ,and be like gall to spoil your cup of mirth4 ,the smiles of those we bless are lasting1 too2 ,we feel their cheering glow each cloudy day4 ,as falls on wilted flower the healing dew1 ,so they refresh1 and chase our gloom away2 ,we feel though weak we have not lived in vain1 ,and know ,god smiles tho' we cannot explain4 ,the footprints on the rock time wears away2 ,the rock itself soon crumbles into dust2 ,but memories of the past have come to stay1 ,nor flood1 nor fire1 nor the consuming rust1 ,can ever from the soul the past erase4 ,guard thou thy life1 ,o man1 with heavenly grace4 ,,the ,,royal ,,way ,perfection ever is the price of toil4 ,of marchings long1 and hardships by the way1 ,of burdens borne1 oft in the heat of day1 ',tis then as right the victor claims the spoil4 ,the world admires the wreath upon his brow1 ,but he alone can tell how much it cost1 ,and how to gain it he had all things lost4 ,results men see1 but not the when1 or how4 ,the stately elm which rears its head so high1 ,and spreads abroad so gracefully its boughs1 ,beneath which may repose a herd of cows1 ,grows under ground as well as toward the sky4 ,the bridge which spans the swiftly-flowing stream ,o'er which the iron horse1 by night and day1 ,with heavy tread speeds on its busy way1 ,rests not on sand1 nor slender post and beam4 ,below the shifting sand1 on solid rock1 ,the mason safely laid the buttress stone1 ,and labored long before his work was shown2 ,but he built well--his work endures each shock4 ,this work takes time2 we chafe at the delay ,and try to gain the summit at a bound1 ,but find full soon our hopes dashed to the ground2 ,yet there remains for all the royal way4 ,and he who would true eminence attain ,must heed the word of ,him who came to serve1 ,nor from this path a single moment swerve1 ,if he the great reward would surely gain4 ,this is the royal way--to serve in love-- ,servant to servants ever aim to be ,like ,him who gave ,his life to ransom thee2 ,then shalt thou sit with ,him on throne above4 ',,stablished ,the well-built house with walls of brick1 or stone1 ,may tremble some if struck by the cyclone2 ,the most established saint may trials feel1 ,as flint may turn the edge of finest steel4 ,satanic hosts may rush in like a flood1 ,allied with foes of our own flesh and blood1 ,the elements of earth and hell combine1 ,yet tho' he trembles1 stands in strength divine2 ,he rests secure on the unyielding rock4 ,the top may sway1 but base feels not the shock2 ,his heart is fixed1 nor earth nor hell can move2 ,they wrench not loose1 but his allegiance prove4 ,christ wept with ,mary at her brother's grave2 ,laid down ,his life a rebel world to save2 ,tried1 like ourselves1 and like us too1 infirm1 ,yet knew no sin in either root or germ2 ,let us be like ,him while we sojourn here1 ,then storms and earthquakes we need never fear4 ,a ,,merognostic ,i know in part1 but know not all1 ,the part ,i know is known2 ,what know ,i not ,i hope with ,paul ,to know before the throne4 ,till then where knowledge fails ,i trust ,the truth ,god has revealed1 ,as known by me1 forever must ,be like the truth concealed4 ,i know ,god is1 tho' hid from sight1 ,and know ,he cares for me2 ,in blessing me ,he takes delight1 ,and ,i by faith can see ,his skilful hand and loving heart1 ,in all my life's affairs1 ,and feel content to know but part ,if ,he knows all my cares4 ,i know ,god gave ,his ,son to die ,a sacrifice for man1 ,and live all who on ,him rely1 ,and meet ,his claims ,i can1 ,yet ,i know not how in ,him meet ,the human and divine2 ,but ,god ,he is1 and at ,his feet ,i fall1 and feel ,him mine4 ,nor do ,i understand the change ,the spirit wrought in me2 ,a work so great exceeds my range1 ,but ,i can feel and see ,the inward peace1 and outward trend1 ,and hear likewise ,his voice1 ,the outward with the inward blend1 ,and answer to my choice4 ,i know not how mind touches mind ,and thoughts spring into life2 ,nor know the mystic bands which bind1 ,like husband to the wife1 ,my loving ,lord and my poor soul1 ,but this ,i know full well1 ,if ,i submit to ,his control ,i cannot sink to hell4 ,i know the world shakes to its base1 ,and man still wars with man1 ,the bane of sin rests on our race1 ,and ,satan leads the van2 ,but hope exults within my breast ,tho 'darkness shrouds the sky2 ,god is the friend of the oppressed1 ,the good will never die4 ,i know not why my plans should fail ,when ,i have plan'd for ,god1 ,and on this ground my foes assail1 ,but ,i still kiss the rod1 ,for tho' ,i cannot tell the why ,my heart is filled with peace2 ,i can on my dear ,lord rely1 ,and wait for my release4 ,i know ,he is both true and kind1 ,and has my good at heart4 ,his discipline will only bind ,with cords which naught can part1 ,my heart's affections to ,his throne1 ,and fit me for my rest1 ,nor do ,i tread life's path alone2 ,he knows1 and ,i am blest4 ,,salut ,,aux ,,blessis ,a group of mounted officers ,ride up and fall in line2 ,their gleaming swords hang at their sides1 ,chevrons their arms entwine2 ,they bare their heads as pass along ,a train of wounded men1 ,their shattered comrades from the field ,they ne'er may meet again4 ,salut aux ,blessis6 loud they cry4 ,the wounded soldiers hear1 ,and for a time forget their pain1 ,and swell the lusty cheer4 ,thus should it be in other lines2 ,the men who lead the van ,should e'er accord a brother's cheer ,to every wounded man4 ,the rank and file the wounds receive2 ,sometimes the leader1 too2 ,but honest wounds none should despise2 ,the bearer may be true4 ,he stood his ground 'gainst mighty odds1 ,and dared the shot and shell2 ,so bare your heads1 ye scarless ones1 ,and say1 ,thou hast done well6 ,,sonnet ,each human life with mysteries is replete2 ,they press upon us in its early dawn1 ,and multiply apace as years roll on1 ,and at each turn we must their problems meet4 ,reason is blind1 and fails their end to see1 ,misjudges ,god and gathers only woe1 ,and from this spring much turbid waters flow4 ,only the pure in heart from doubt are free2 ,they read aright the writing on the wall ,which solves the problems of our earthly lot2 ,to them ,god draws aside the veil1 and shows ,the golden threads with which the garment glows1 ,and why one dwells in palace1 one in cot1 ,and how ,his love is working good to all4 ,,brotherhood ,is brotherhood to flesh confined8 ,is there no kinship of the soul8 ,to have it thus1 ,i am resigned1 ,if 'tis my ,god-appointed goal2 ,for there are those whom ,i hold dear1 ,who claim with me a common sire1 ,that we1 with one accord1 revere1 ,and love holds out midst flood and fire4 ,but is the family so small ,of which ,i fondly claim a part8 ,is there no other ,i may call ,a brother1 and within my heart ,cherish for him1 whate'er his name1 ,or rank1 or color1 or his creed1 ,a love of pure and changeless flame1 ,and feel ,i render but his meed8 ,thank ,god for brotherhood so broad ,that all the human race may share ,a kinship1 never yet outlawed1 ,tho' types of it have been too rare4 ,but bigotry is doomed to die1 ,and hate1 a relic of the past2 ,the golden age is drawing nigh1 ,and all one family at last6 ,,she ,,dearly ,,loved ,,the ,,flowers ,i saw her first when she was old1 ,her form devoid of grace2 ,her locks that once were yellow gold ,were white1 and on her face ,were furrows deep1 which told of pain1 ,and toil1 and worldly fret1 ,which all1 alas1 had been in vain1 ,but nature claimed the debt4 ,her eyes were gray and lacked in glow1 ,her voice some thought was gruff1 ,and when excited was not slow ,to use a sharp rebuff2 ,for she in speech was free from art2 ,men feared her verbal stroke1 ,and yet they said1 ,she has a heart2 ,she never wears a cloak4 ,her creed1 perhaps1 was heterodox1 ,if creed she ever had4 ,she knew far more of pans and crocks1 ,but this was not her fad2 ,her light1 ,i fear1 did not shine out ,in pious talk and airs1 ,in fact ,i entertain a doubt ,if she oft said her prayers4 ,her light1 if dim1 was never hid1 ,yet looked not for applause2 ,for kindly deeds she often did1 ,in line with highest laws4 ,she lacked it may be that rare grace ,which some ,i know endowers1 ,yet good in her ,i gladly trace-- ,she dearly loved the flowers4 ,,my ,,pansy ,,pets ,my pansy pets are sleeping well ,beneath their quilt of snow2 ,how they can breathe ,i cannot tell1 ,nor how their rootlets grow2 ,but soon the snow will melt away ,and ,april showers descend2 ,then shall appear in colors gay ,each little pansy friend4 ,of pride it may not show a trace2 ,of lowly mind1 alway2 ,but will not blush to show its face ,all through the lifelong day3 ,its fragrance other flowers surpass1 ,in form more stately1 too4 ,but when you see my pets in mass1 ,thank ,god they ever grew4 ,for though the human face may frown1 ,or show a heart of guile1 ,my pansy pets as you look down ,will look at you and smile2 ,nor will they murmur if you should ,pluck off their brightest bloom2 ,their mission is to do us good1 ,and smile away our gloom4 ,,love ,,better ,,than ,,knowledge ,o ,thou ,eternal ,one1 look down ,upon an erring child of earth2 ,thy handiwork with knowledge crown1 ,or life will seem of little worth2 ,by ,thine own light illume my way1 ,and turn this darkness into day4 ,i hear a whisper in my heart-- ,than knowledge1 better far is love2 ,thy knowledge here is but in part1 ,the perfect waits for ,thee above3 ,walk now by faith1 and leave to me ,the things now wrap'd in mystery4 ,weighed down with mysteries profound ,i lean upon ,thy loving breast2 ,the great unknown still girts me round1 ,but ,thou art mine1 and here ,i rest2 ,unsolved the mysteries remain2 ,but they no longer give me pain4 ,my finite mind may never grasp ,the thought of ,thy immensity2 ,but ,i ,thy hand more firmly clasp-- ,to feel ,thee near suffices me2 ,for ,thou art knowledge1 power1 and love1 ,the same in earth and heaven above4 ,a ,,suffering ,,god ,man is like ,god in miniature1 ,when he is at his best2 ,his motives and impulses pure1 ,his heart and will at rest2 ,no conflict in himself is felt1 ,his light no earthly beam1 ,while love encircles like a belt1 ,and conscience is supreme4 ,as thus endowed a creature may ,the keenest sufferings feel2 ,not such as rack the frame of clay1 ,which art of man may heal2 ,but pain untold at others' woes1 ,and deadly blight of sin1 ,which right and virtue overthrows1 ,and blackens all within4 ,and may not ,god have suffered much ,ere reached the gory cross8 ,did not our woe the ,god-heart touch8 ,did ,he not feel our loss8 ,the ,man of ,sorrows we adore1 ,and own ,his sufferings real2 ,but suffered ,he as ,god before2 ,for ,god can sorrow feel4 ,,the ,,copy ,looking o'er this written page1 ,many blurs and blots are seen2 ,crooked strokes1 at every stage-- ,oh1 that it again were clean1 ,as at first ,i found it1 when ,i defiled it with my pen6 ,gladly would ,i all erase2 ,but along the lines of blue ,you could still the failure trace ,in the paper's darkened hue2 ,though the words could not be seen1 ,you could trace where they had been4 ,i will try to do my best1 ,though my ideal be not gained2 ,on the ,master's scrip shall rest ,eager eyes1 till is attained ,some resemblance to ,his hand2 ,if no more ,i can command4 ,like my life1 this written sheet1 ,so unlike the pattern given2 ,crooked strokes1 ,i oft repeat2 ,oh1 that from it could be riven ,all the blurs and blots of sin2 ,all the self that's found within4 ,i can not the past erase4 ,christ shall blot the crooked out1 ,leaving not the slightest trace ,of my sin1 the lines about2 ,and will give me grace to write ,pages pleasing in ,his sight4 ,i will try to do my best1 ,as ,he gives me strength and light1 ,leaving with ,him all the rest2 ,he will keep life's pages white2 ,and the copy shall be shown ,perfected1 before ,his throne4 ,,perfect ,,work ,an artist skilled beyond the sons of men ,with pleasure scanned the pictures on the wall1 ,rare works of art1 each one pronounced a gem1 ,the product of his hand1 both great and small2 ,each filled its place in the designer's plan2 ,conceived in full before the work began4 ,pleased was the artist with results as shown2 ,but his ideal was not as yet attained2 ,it needed this1 as palace needs a throne1 ,but throne a king--then is perfection gained1 ,when his great masterpiece hangs in its place1 ,and the great artist looks in his own face4 ,,the ,,johnstown ,,disaster1 #ahhi ,look down1 ye ,alleghenies1 into the ,conemaugh vale1 ,and see the rising waters1 and hear the bitter wail2 ,the swollen streams now empty their contents in the lake1 ,the waters rise to kiss the skies and walls of granite shake4 ,oh1 hear that awful booming2 the dam has given way6 ,an avalanche of water ,god's hand alone can stay6 ,oh1 leap1 ye hills1 before it and keep this torrent back1 ,or devastated towns and homes will mark its onward track6 ,look down1 ye ,alleghenies1 upon this vale of woe2 ,ten thousand corpses at your base their soulless faces show2 ,some hid beneath the debris1 some covered o'er with slime1 ,their spirits fled to meet their ,god1 beyond the shores of time4 ,the aged sire and lassie2 the careworn mother1 too1 ,with her strong son1 whom she had hoped would guard life's journey thro'1 ,are lying there together1 the old and young alike2 ,their plans and purposes cut off1 no power to love or strike4 ,bow down1 ye ,alleghenies1 and weep o'er thousands slain1 ,who yesterday were all intent this present world to gain4 ,their active brain is sleeping1 their busy hands are still1 ,bright hopes are blasted in an hour1 ambitions cease to thrill2 ,their mansions1 with their bodies1 the flood has borne away-- ,the rich and poor together rest till resurrection day4 ,now leap for joy1 ye mountains1 for all is not in vain6 ,for as it was in ,noah's flood1 it ever will remain6 ,god cares for those who love ,him2 ,he holds them in ,his hand1 ,and wind and wave obey ,his will1 and rest at ,his command2 ,some sank beneath the freshet1 and now with others lie1 ,but ,god prepared another ark to bear their souls on high4 ,see1 floating with the wreckage1 borne onward by the tide1 ,a loving mother with her babe close sheltered at her side2 ,one hand has grasped a rafter1 the other guards her child2 ,oh1 how she pleads with ,god and man in accents loud and wild6 ,men hear but give no answer1 no human hand can save2 ,her voice1 alas1 is hushed in death by the relentless wave2 ,but ,god has heard her pleading1 and now ,his angel bears ,their deathless souls to dwell with ,him1 where free from toils and cares1 ,her voice rings out in gladness the notes of that blest psalm ,the prophet heard the elders sing1 of ,moses and the ,lamb4 ,and see this lovely maiden1 a mother's hope and pride1 ,the sunbeam of a ,christian home1 and the affianced bride ,of one who loved her dearly1 and loved her not in vain1 ,for he had won a loyal heart1 and hand without a stain2 ,but he lies 'neath the billows1 and she will join him soon4 ,hark6 hark6 she sings in accents sweet1 to old familiar tune6 ,jesus1 lover of my soul1 ,let me to ,thy bosom fly1 etc4 ,her prayer1 also1 is answered1 for see1 the roof is bare6 ,the current swept the slippery raft1 the maiden is not there6 ,an angel band descended1 her lover led the way1 ,and now she joins her loved and lost in realms of endless day6 ,look down1 ye ,alleghenies1 from your colossal heights1 ,and witness an heroic deed1 bright gleam 'midst horrid sights4 ,see1 ,periton has mounted his famous large bay steed1 ,and flies1 not to the mountains1 but at his greatest speed ,he gallops down the valley1 to warn of pending fate1 ,and cries aloud1 ,flee for your lives6 flee1 ere it be too late6 ,the ,conemaugh dam is broken1 destruction comes apace6 ,leave all and to the mountains flee2 leave all and win the race6 ,each creek becomes a river1 each pool a little sea1 ,the tidal wave comes rushing on1 men know not where to flee1 ,but on he rides1 still shouting1 as angels did of old1 ,flee6 ,flee ye to the mountain6 ,flee6 forsake your homes and gold6 ,his horse now shares his spirit1 and leaps each swollen stream4 ,with panting flanks and nostrils wide1 and breath like scalding steam1 ,he dashes down the roadway1 and fairly seems to fly1 ,obedient to his rider's rein1 resolved to do or die4 ,some heed our hero's warning4 ,see1 toward the hills they fly6 ,will ,periton now turn aside1 or like a hero die8 ,straight on he goes1 brave fellow2 to turn aside he scorned1 ,his life he deems of little worth if other men be warned4 ,we honor those brave soldiers1 who scaled the rampart height1 ,to plant the standard of their queen in the defence of right1 ,the fire was hot before them1 and bursting shells o'erhead1 ,yet on they pressed1 till bullet-pierced they fell--our honored dead2 ,but he1 ,i hold1 was braver1 who ran his race alone1 ,no comrade's cheer to urge him on1 no bugle blast was blown1 ,nor grand review to follow if he should win the day2 ,but thoughts of self were all too weak his onward course to stay4 ,spur up your steed1 brave fellow--the flood is at his heels6 ,too late6 the waves now gird him round2 the gallant rider reels2 ,entombed beneath the debris his warning voice is stilled1 ,but he1 ,i trust1 ran not in vain2 his mission is fulfilled4 ,like ,jesus1 he saved others1 yet would not save himself2 ,the plaudits of the world sought not1 but scorned its praise and pelf4 ,he still sat in the saddle1 and held the guiding rein1 ,yet wind and wave awoke him not1 and thunders roared in vain4 ,his spirit had ascended1 death set the hero free1 ,and ,god shall say in ,his great day1 ,thou didst it unto ,me6 ,look down1 ye ,alleghenies1 with ever-darkening frown1 ,upon the selfishness which caused the ruin of ,johnstown4 ,a reservoir was fashioned1 of full three miles in length1 ,an inland lake1 kept back by dam of insufficient strength2 ,no mills were driven by it2 no water-works supplied2 ,a few rich men1 for selfish sport1 claimed all these waters wide4 ,they rode upon its surface in skiff1 and bark canoe1 ,shot grouse and duck1 caught fish and eel1 and held their title true2 ,for other people's safety took not a single thought-- ,ten thousand lives were less to them than fish thus daily caught4 ,the dam revealed its weakness by frequent leaks1 but they ,turned not aside to strengthen it till came the fateful day2 ,but ,god1 who rules the nations1 to whom all bow the knee1 ,will say to them on judgment day1 ,ye did it not to ,me4 ,,eye ,,hath ,,not ,,seen ,somewhere in the realms supernal ,is a home prepared for me1 ,where my joys shall be eternal1 ,and my spirit ever free2 ,mortal vision helps not here1 ,god conceals it from my sight1 ,by effulgent beams of light2 ,oh that ,he would bring it near6 ,but ,i hear a voice say1 softly1 ,be content to leave it so1 ,for ,god's thoughts are far too lofty ,for a man like thee to know2 ,human spirits must be free ,from their tenements of clay1 ,ere they bear that full-orbed day1 ,bide thy time and thou shalt see4 ,i cannot draw back the curtain ,that conceals the glory land1 ,yet my hope is sure and certain1 ,for the tracings of ,god's hand ,on the outside do appear1 ,like the cherubim of old1 ,wrought in needle-work and gold1 ,bringing all the glory near4 ,he who made the lovely flowers ,which adorn both shrub and tree1 ,climbing vine1 and shady bowers1 ,in this beauty speaks to me3 ',tis the curtain of ,his tent1 ,hiding much1 yet much reveals1 ,type of the ,elysian fields2 ,glory streams thro' woof and rent4 ,,what ,,lasts8 ,the words we speak on the empty air1 ,are never lost1 but recorded there2 ,the process we may not comprehend1 ,nor how the words with the air may blend1 ,but science shows what results may be2 ,accept the fact1 is enough for me4 ,the waves of sound may have died away ,as ripples faint on a sheltered bay2 ,but though now faint will be heard again1 ,by ,god1 ourselves1 and the sons of men4 ,as sound e'en now may be multiplied2 ,the faintest moan like the roaring tide2 ,the housefly's tread with its tiny feet ,like tramp of horse on the stone-paved street4 ,so1 though now faint1 will those voices be1 ,when ,christ shall come in ,his majesty2 ,our quicken'd sense will the echo hear1 ,like blast of horn to the timid deer4 ,in pleasant tones will the echoes be1 ,of words of love and of happy glee1 ,which we address to the friends we love1 ,or offer up to our ,lord above4 ,but1 unlike those1 all the echoes heard1 ,of angry tones1 and each sword-like word2 ,as we here mete to our fellow men1 ,the ,judge shall mete in full measure then4 ,the thoughts we think may be lasting1 too1 ,though not inscribed on the azure blue2 ,on the tissued walls of the soul's great dome1 ,may be found those thoughts ne'er more to roam4 ,and like our thoughts1 may we not become ,the thought we think1 be ourselves the sum8 ,may thoughts of ,god on my heart be graved1 ,and ,i be known as a sinner saved4 ,,is ,,there ,a ,,brighter ,,world8 ,beneath the surface of a shallow lake1 ,where grasses rank and mammoth rushes grow1 ,and playful fish their bright fins nimbly shake1 ,or madly chase each other to and fro1 ,the larva of the dragon-fly submerged1 ,in family large1 had taken their abode1 ,and tho' the waves around them daily surged1 ,upon the bending grass they safely rode4 ,content were they with life as there enjoyed2 ,to brighter world they never had aspired1 ,had they not felt unfilled an aching void1 ,and heard a whisper of a life attired ,in sapphire robes1 'midst gleams of golden light1 ,above their present world1 so dank and chill1 ,where all day long they wing their happy flight ,from roses sweet to lovely daffodil4 ,but some essayed to doubt if it were so4 ,who ever had returned to make it known8 ,one volunteered that he would upward go1 ,to bring report2 but he was not full grown1 ,and fainted when he reached the surface air1 ,and falling1 round a reed his form he curled1 ,then cried1 ,delusion6 ,i have been up there4 ,and could not find a trace of brighter world4 ,yet others could not still the voice within1 ,nor disregard tradition's hopeful tale4 ,they called a council2 but it caused some din1 ,and all their efforts seemed at first to fail1 ,till one wise head suggested this compact1 ,expressed1 no doubt1 in dragon larva lore2 ,that if that brighter life were actual fact1 ,and all who rose in golden sunshine soar1 ,each must return to tell the joyful tale1 ,and o'er the waters shake his sapphire wings1 ,so all may see1 and their bright comrade hail1 ,and talk about the tidings which he brings4 ,now each returns1 clad in his bright array2 ,skims o'er the grassy lake with gauze-like wings1 ,attracts their notice by his plumage gay1 ,and they collect to hear the news he brings4 ,then1 holding fast1 he buzzes out his song1 ,and seeks to woo them to a brighter world4 ,and he succeeds2 for see1 the larva strong ,climb up the grass1 and soon in light enfurled1 ,they wait the growth of wings1 then burst their shells1 ,shake loose the gauzy folds1 and soar away2 ,but soon come back again their joy to tell1 ,and help their brothers to a brighter day4 ,perhaps our loved ones do not always stay ,in far-off heaven1 and leave their comrades lone2 ,tho' yet unseen1 may hover round our way1 ,and see our toil1 and hear our daily moan2 ,and tho' we cannot see their lovely forms1 ,nor hear full well the whispers of their voice1 ,may shield us oft in life's tempestuous storms1 ,and when we victories gain1 with us rejoice4 ,they whisper thoughts1 perhaps1 if not word sounds1 ,and help to waken longings for our rest2 ,and thus allure our hearts beyond earth's bounds ,to joy and home1 upon our ,saviour's breast4 ,o may ,i heed the whispers which they bring1 ,and seek the grace which will my heart prepare ,to climb from earth and take on angel wing1 ,then soar aloft1 to find my home up there6 ,a ,,glimpse ,,of ,,heaven ,as the caged eagle neared the mountain range1 ,o'er which he oft had soared on pinions strong1 ,he clapped his wings1 moved by some impulse strange1 ,and then fell dead his prison floor along4 ,so ,moses stood on ,pisgah's heights alone1 ,with sight undimmed1 and unabated strength2 ,he gazed with rapture on the vision shown1 ,of the fair land in all its breadth and length2 ,he saw the vale of ,eschol clad with vine1 ,mount ,libbanus adorned with lordly trees1 ,gilead and ,achor1 with their lowing kine1 ,and verdant ,sharon swept by the sea breeze2 ,he saw the spot where ,jacob's ladder stood1 ,the oaks at ,mamre where their father prayed1 ,saw ,bashan with its pastures and its wood1 ,and the rude cave where ,abram ,sarah laid4 ,saw the whole land--its hills and vales and streams1 ,its lakes and pools1 its vineyards and its groves1 ,a wealth and glory far beyond his dreams2 ,better1 it seemed1 than all earth's treasure troves4 ,god then revealed a glimpse of ,his own face1 ,which ,moses once desired1 but ,god withheld1 ,but finished now the ,god-ordained race1 ,the battle fought1 and every passion quelled4 ,as he beholds the glory of his ,lord1 ,and looks within the pearly gates ajar1 ,snaps1 in an instant1 life's frail brittle cord1 ,and he is where the holy angels are4 ,so is it1 likewise1 with most dying saints2 ,they see e'en here the beatific sight2 ,the spirit then breaks thro' this world's restraints1 ,and enters into heaven's effulgent light4 ,not sorrow snaps the silver cord1 but joy2 ,not woe1 but bliss1 expands the golden bowl4 ,the pitcher breaks when free from earth's alloy1 ,and fails the wheel when heaven has filled the soul4 ,,the ,,end ,,we ,,sought ,the end we sought is not attained1 ,but wisdom has been won1 ,and thus a higher goal is gained4 ,that like the moon has sadly waned1 ,while this shines as the sun4 ,a shorter route to ,india's strand ,columbus failed to find4 ,that was an object truly grand1 ,but in the wealth of this fair land ,grandeur and good combine4 ,,aspiration ,i stand to-day on higher ground ,than ever reached before1 ,yet from this summit ,i have found1 ,outlined full many more1 ,which seem to pierce the vaulted sky1 ,and prove my effort vain ,but ,god will set my feet on high1 ,thro' grace ,i shall attain4 ,yet higher still my ideal stands1 ,its peak but dimly seen1 ,but hope impels1 and love commands1 ,and faith discerns its sheen2 ,and when ,i reach its shining height ,heaven's gate will open wide2 ,i'll see the beatific sight1 ,and rest at ,jesus' side4 ,,my ,,rest ,i would not cherish a wish or thought ,displeasing1 ,lord1 to ,thee2 ,thy will is good1 and with wisdom fraught1 ,and that suffices me4 ,i cannot alter a plan of ,thine1 ,and would not if ,i could2 ,i acquiesce in the will divine1 ,and find my highest good4 ,at times my vessel drifts near the shore1 ,and the beacon lights expire1 ,the surf-capped waves swell more and more1 ,and threaten with ruin dire2 ,but only the surface sea is rough2 ,the ocean's depths are calm1 ,and a star affords me light enough1 ,the ,star of ,bethlehem4 ,and by its light ,i discern the sand ,and rocks along the coast1 ,and turn away toward a fairer land1 ,and standing at my post1 ,i guide my bark thro' the tempest wild1 ,borne on by wind and tide1 ,till ,god receives ,his weak1 erring child1 ,and shelters near ,his side4 ,lo1 ,i come1 ,o ,lord1 to do ,thy will6 ,shines from my star divine1 ,and my heart cries out1 ,in me fulfill ,also1 ,thy wise design4 ,i would not alter a plan of thine ,if ,i the power possessed2 ,my will is lost in the will divine1 ',tis here ,i find my rest4 ,,paint ,,me ,,as ,i ,,am1 ,,warts ,,and ,,all--,cromwell4 ,brave soul1 'twere well if all the same would say1 ,and artists aim their patron's wish t'obey4 ,what signifies a wart1 or e'en a scar8 ,leave both1 skilled hand1 and paint us as we are4 ,the crowfeet paint1 the wrinkles on the brow1 ,the hollow cheek1 the form inclined to bow1 ,the tear-dim'd eye1 the hair well streaked with gray1 ,the hardened hand1 begrim'd with soot and clay1 ,and if you use the seer's revealing glass1 ,remember this1 ,all flesh is as the grass4 ,i ,,was ,,there ,when the ,french soldier from the field returned1 ,begrimed with smoke and blood1 he felt content1 ,as from ,napoleon he this fact had learned1 ,that thro' his marshall1 medals would be sent1 ,the name of battlefield each one would bear1 ,and1 also1 in large letters1 ,i was there4 ,in others' triumphs we may well rejoice1 ,if in their triumphs good to us redounds2 ,but in the glory we can have no choice1 ,and our rejoicings are but empty sounds4 ,if you would in the victor's glory share1 ,be then prepared to add this1 ,i was there6 ,the victor's joy belongs to him alone2 ,he stood his ground 'midst storms of shot and shell2 ,thro' his brave stand the foe has been o'erthrown1 ,and he alone the victor's tale can tell4 ,he now lies down to die 'neath glory's glare1 ,for he can say to others1 ,i was there6 ,not in some neutral nook must we remain2 ,the battle rages1 we must share the strife2 ,the world1 once lost1 we must for ,christ regain1 ,and each lay hold upon eternal life4 ,who share ,his conflicts will ,his glory share2 ,then looking down to earth say1 ,i was there6 ,those who before the throne are robed in white1 ,passed thro' the conflict and the foe o'ercame2 ,boldly they stood as champions for the right1 ,and thus have won thro' grace enduring fame1 ,and when the roll is called1 each will declare1 ,here am ,i1 ,lord1 ,i fought for ,thee down there6 ,,true ,,love ,he loves not much who loves not honor more2 ,if men lack this then love must lack as well2 ,if this possessed no tongue love's depths can tell2 ,the heart an ocean filled from shore to shore4 ,seeing in him the possibility ,of likeness to the great and ,blessed ,one2 ,it may be even now in him begun4 ,i love him much for what ,i hope to be1 ,and show my love by yielding him his due2 ,for sentimental love is ever vain1 ,it cannot peace1 much less heaven's favor gain2 ,but those who love in deed are blessed and true4 ,a ,,true ,,man ,with purpose strong to do or die1 ,the race of life he ran1 ,with love supreme to ,god on high1 ,and equal love to man4 ,some flaws the earthen vessel marred1 ,which all could clearly see2 ,within was found the precious nard2 ,from guile his heart was free4 ,in motive e'er is found the sin2 ,let that to ,god be true1 ,and he the ,judge's smile will win1 ,and man's approval too4 ,,my ,,old ,,sweetheart ,my old sweetheart is away to-day2 ,i feel as ,i did of old1 ,in my courting days1 when far away ,i yearned for her more than gold4 ,i thought of her handsome1 smiling face1 ,her noble and cultured brow1 ,of her gentle ways1 and charming grace2 ,i missed her less then than now4 ,through the long years of our wedded life1 ,now nearly a full two score1 ,she has proved herself a loving wife1 ,and a sweetheart evermore4 ,our love has grown with the flight of time1 ,as the mountain stream may grow2 ,or as a tree in a genial clime ,when free from the frost and snow4 ,the tempest may madly rage without1 ,we have lasting peace within2 ,and confidence ne'er gives place to doubt1 ,nor concord to noisy din4 ,she will soon return again to me1 ,from her visit in the ,west1 ,and the dear face that ,i long to see ,will be nestling on my breast4 ,and ,i will feel as in olden time1 ,with a love not dreamed of then2 ,no happier man in any clime ,is known to the sons of men4 ,and when we part at the silent tomb1 ',twill be but a passing day ,before we meet where there is no gloom1 ,and sweethearts forever stay4 ,full forty-six years of wedded life1 ,enjoyed with my sweetheart here2 ,they were happy years1 devoid of strife1 ,and full of ,christian cheer2 ,then her ,master called her spirit home1 ,and ,i am left to walk alone4 ,ere long my journey1 too1 will end1 ,and my spirit to ,god arise2 ,perhaps he may my sweetheart send ,to escort me to the skies2 ,and there with our ,saviour we shall be1 ,yet sweethearts still through eternity4