THE OLD HOUSE. I've searched through fields and gardens rare, My little hearts, that beat so high But dream, or was I dreaming then, My little hearts, so fond, so true, I searched the world all far and wide, God grant we meet the other side 285 FOR THE LOST. LOST LILIES. SHOW you her picture? Here it lies! Hands of lilies, and lily-like brow; Mouth that is bright as a rose, and eyes That are just the soul's sweetest overflow. Darling shoulders, softly pale, Borne by the undulating play Of the life below, up out of their veil, Like lilies out o' the waves o' the May. Throat as white as the throat of a swan, With chastity," like the lady of eld. Tender lids, that drooping down, Fair, with a golden gleam in the brown, These on your eyes like a splendor fall, That made her the angel she was to me. LOST LILIES. So snut the picture and put it away, What can the dull, cold semblance say, Seven long years, and seven again, And three to the seven The weary fingers of the rain a weary space Have drawn the daisies over her face. Seven and seven years, and three, The leaves have faded to death in the frost, Since the shadow that made for me The world a shadow my pathway crossed. And now and then some meteor gleam But never a planet, steady and still, And never the flowery head of a hill Yet God is love! and this I trust, 287 Though summer is over and sweetness done, That all my lilies are safe, in the dust, As they were in the glow of the great, glad sun Yea, God is love, and love is might! And the sleepers, sleeping in death's dark night, A WONDER. STILL alway groweth in me the great wonder, When all the fields are blushing like the dawn, And only one poor little flower ploughed under, That I can see no flowers, that one being gone : No flower of all, because of one being gone. Aye, ever in me groweth the great wonder, When all the hills are shining, white and red, I cannot feel the beauty of the roses; Their soft leaves seem to me but layers of dust; Out of my opening hand each blessing closes : Nothing is left me but my hope and trust, Nothing but heavenly hope and heavenly trust. I get no sweetness of the sweetest places; My house, my friends no longer comfort me ; Having, I have them not― strange contradiction! Heaven needs must cast its shadow on our earth; Yea, drown us in the waters of affliction Breast high, to make us know our treasure's worth, To make us know how much our love is worth. MOST BELOVED. And while I mourn, the anguish of my story 289 Breaks, as the wave breaks on the hindering bar: Thou art but hidden in the deeps of glory, Even as the sunshine hides the lessening star, And with true love I love thee from afar. I know our Father must be good, not evil, That somehow bindeth all things in his will, MOST BELOVED. My heart thou makest void, and full; O most beloved! most beautiful! I miss, and find thee everywhere! In the sweet water, as it flows; The winds, that kiss me as they pass ; Sitting beside her on the grass; The daffodilly, trying to bless With better light the beauteous air; The lithe-armed, dainty-fingered brier, |