IF

IF WE KNEW.

F we knew what forms were fainting For the shade that we should fling, If we knew what lips were parching

For the water we should bring,
We should haste with eager footsteps,
We would work with willing hands,
Bearing cups of cooling water,
Planting rows of shading palms.

If we knew when friends around us
Closely press to say good-bye,
Which among the lips that kiss us

First should 'neath the daisies lie,
We would clasp our arms around them,
Looking on them through our tears,
Tender words of love eternal,

We would whisper in their ears.

If we knew what lives were darkened
By some thoughtless word of ours,
Which had ever lain among them
Like the frost among the flowers;
O, with what sincere repentings,
With what anguish of regret,
While our eyes were overflowing,
Would we cry-forgive-forget.

If we knew, alas! and do we
Ever care or seek to know,
Whether bitter herbs or roses

In our neighbor's gardens grow?

God forgive us, lest hereafter,
Our hearts break to hear him say,
"Careless child, I never knew you,
From my presence flee away."

WHAT IS MY WORK TO-DAY?

O search for truth and wisdom,

То

To live for Christ alone;

To run my race unburdened,
The goal my Saviour's throne;
To view by faith the promise,
While earthly hopes decay;
To serve the Lord with gladness-
This is my work to-day.

To

To shun the world's allurements,
To bear my cross therein,
To turn from all temptation,
To conquer every sin;
To linger, calm and patient,
Where duty bids me stay,
go where God may lead me
This is my work to-day.
To keep my troth unshaken,
Though others may deceive;
To give with willing pleasure,
Or still with joy receive;
To bring the mourner comfort,
To wipe sad tears away;
To help the timid doubter-
This is my work to-day.

To bear another's weakness,

To soothe another's pain;
To cheer the heart repentant,
And to forgive again;

To commune with the thoughtful,
To guide the young and gay;
To profit all in season--
This is my work to-day.

I think not of to-morrow,
Its trial or its task;

But still, with child-like spirit,
For present mercies ask.
With each returning morning,
I cast old things away;
Life's journey lies before me
My prayer is for to-day.

THERE IS NO DEATH.

THERE is no death! The stars go down

TH

To rise upon some fairer shore;

And bright, in Heaven's jeweled crown,
They shine for evermore.

There is no death! The dust we tread

Shall change beneath the summer showers

To golden grain or mellow fruit,

Or rainbow-tinted flowers.

The granite rocks disorganize,

And feed the hungry moss they bear; The forest leaves drink daily life,

From out the viewless air.

There is no death! The leaves may fall And flowers may fade and pass away; They only wait through wintry hours, The coming of May-day.

There is no death! An angel form

Walks o'er the earth with silent tread; And bears our best loved things away, And then we call them "dead."

He leaves our hearts all desolate,
He plucks our fairest, sweetest flowers:
Transplanted into bliss, they now
Adorn immortal bowers.

The bird-like voice, whose joyous tones Made glad these scenes of sin and strife, Sings now an everlasting song,

Around the tree of life.

Wherever he sees a smile too bright,

Or heart too pure for taint and vice,

He bears it to that world of light,
To dwell in paradise.

Born unto that undying life,

They leave us but to come again; With joy we welcome them the same, Except their sin and pain.

And ever near us, though unseen,

The dear immortal spirits tread; For all the boundless universe

Is life-there is no dead!

SIR E. BULWER LYTTON.

I'

SEA VENTURES.

STOOD and watched my ships go out,
Each one by one, unmooring free,

What time the quiet harbor fill'd
With flood tide from the sea.

The first that sailed, her name was Joy,
She spread a smooth, white, ample sail;
And Eastward drove, with bending spars
Before the singing gale.

Another sailed, her name was Hope,
No cargo in her hold she bore;
Thinking to find in Western lands
Of merchandise a store.

The next that sailed, her name was Love,
She showed a red flag at the mast-
A flag as red as blood she showed,
And she sped South right fast.

The last that sailed, her name was Faith,
Slowly she took her passage forth,
Tacked and lay to; at last she steered
A straight course for the North.