From thy secure and sheltering branch The wild bird pours her glad and fearless lay, That, with the sunbeams, falls upon the vale, Adding fresh brightness to the smile of day, 'Neath those broad boughs the youth has told love's tale; And thou hast seen his hardy features blanch, Heard his snared heart beat like a prisoned bird, Fluttering with fear, before the fowler laid; While his bold figure shook at every word The strong man trembling at a timid maid! And thou hast smiled upon their children's play; Seen them grow old, and gray, and How canst thou call my modest love impure, Being thyself the holy source of all? Can ugly darkness from the fair sun fall? Or nature's compact be so insecure, That saucy weeds may sprout up and endure Where gentle flowers were sown? Or rattle o'er the pebbles, will allure With no feigned sweetness, if their fount be sweet. So thou, the sun whence all my light doth flow And all things seem a show and mockery Life, and life's actions, noise and vanity; I ask my mournful heart if it can tell If all be truth which I protest to thee: And my heart answers, solemnly, ""Tis well." I HAVE been mounted on life's topmost wave, Until my forehead kissed the daz zling cloud; But, ah! my treacherous heart doth ever fail To ratify the sentence of my mind; For when conviction strikes me to the core, I swear I love thee fondlier than before; And were I now all free and unconfined, Loose as the action of the shoreless wind, My slavish heart would sigh for bonds once more. I have been dashed beneath the AH! let me live on memories of old, The precious relics I have set aside From life's poor venture; things that yet abide My ill-paid labor, shining, like pure gold, Amid the dross of cheated hopes whose hold Dropped at the touch of action. Down the smooth past, review that day of pride When each to each our mutual passion told When love grew frenzy in thy blazing eye, Fear shone heroic, caution quailed before My hot, resistless kisses - when we bore Time, conscience, destiny, down, down for aye, Beneath victorious love, and thou didst cry, "Strike, God! life's cup is running o'er and o'er." DIRGE FOR A SOLDier. CLOSE his eyes; his work is done! As man may, he fought his fight, Lay him low, lay him low, What cares he? he cannot know: Fold him in his country's stars, Roll the drum and fire the volley! What to him are all our wars, What but death-bemocking folly ? Lay him low, lay him low, Leave him to God's watching eye, Trust him to the hand that made him. Mortal love weeps idly by: God alone has power to aid him. HORATIUS BONAR. A LITTLE WHILE. BEYOND the smiling and the weeping I shall be soon; Beyond the waking and the sleeping, Love, rest, and home! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the blooming and the fading Love, rest, and home! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the rising and the setting Beyond the calming and the fretting, Love, rest, and home! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the gathering and the strowing Love, rest, and home! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the parting and the meeting Love, rest, and home! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the frost-chain and the fever Love, rest, and home! Lord, tarry not, but come. THE INNER CALM. CALM me, my God, and keep me calm, Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, Calm me, my God, and keep me Calm in the sufferance of wrong, calm, Let thine outstretched wing Be like the shade of Elim's palm Beside her desert spring. Like Him who bore my shame, Calm mid the threatening, taunting throng. Who hate thy holy name; Yes, keep me calm, though loud and Calm when the great world's news rude. The sounds my ear that greet, Calm in the closet's solitude, Calm in the bustling street; Calm in the hour of buoyant health, with power My listening spirit stir; Calm as the ray of sun or star HELEN BARRON URVASI. 'Tis a story told by Kalidasa,Hindoo poet-in melodious rhyme, How with train of maidens, young Urvasi Came to keep great Indra's festal time. 'T was her part in worshipful confession Of the god-name on that sacred day, Walking flower-crowned in the long procession, "I love Puru-shotta-ma" to say. Pure as snow on Himalayan ranges, Heaven-descended, soon to heaven withdrawn, Fairer than the moon-flower of the Ganges, Was Urvasi, Daughter of the Dawn. But it happened that the gentle maiden Loved one Puru-avas, - fateful name! "I BOSTWICK. love" then she stopped, and people wondered; "I love"- she must guard her Then from sweetest lips that ever secret well; blundered, "I love Puru-avas," trembling fell. Ah, what terror seized on poor Urvasi! Misty grew the violets of her eyes, And her form bent like a broken daisy While around her rose the mocking cries. But great Indra said, "The maid shall marry Him whose image in her faithful heart She so near to that of God doth carry, Scarce her lips can keep their names apart." Call it then not weakness or dissembling If, in striving the high name to reach, And her heart, with its sweet secret Through our voices runs the tender |