Thine

Now

eyes, so curbed in vision,
the realms of space,

range

Look down upon the rolling stars,

Look up-in God's own face.

Thy little hand so helpless,

That scarce its toys could hold, Now clasps its mate in holy prayer, Or strikes a harp of gold.

Thy feeble feet, unsteady,

That tottered as they trod,

With angels walk the heavenly paths,
Or stand before their God.

Nor is thy tongue less skilful
Before the throne divine;

"T is pleading for a mother's weal,
As once she prayed for thine.

What bliss is born of sorrow!
'T is never sent in vain:
The heavenly Surgeon maims to save;
He gives no useless pain.

Our God, to call us homeward,
His only Son sent down,

And now, still more to tempt our hearts,

Has taken up our own.

THOMAS WARD.

God Looked Among his Cherub Band.

GOD looked among his cherub band,
And one was wanting there,

To swell along the holy land

The hymns of praise and prayer.

One little soul which long had been
Half way 'tween earth and sky,
Untempted in a world of sin,
He watched with loving eye.

It was too promising a flower
To bloom upon this earth,
And God did give it angel power,
And bright celestial birth.

The world was all too bleak and cold

To yield it quiet rest;

God brought it to his shepherd-fold,

And laid it on his breast.

There, mother, in thy Saviour's arms,

For ever undefiled,

Amid the little cherub band,
Is thy beloved child.

We are Seven.

A simple child,

That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

I MET a little cottage Girl;

She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad;
Her eyes were fair, and very fair:
Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said,
And wondering looked at me.

"And where are they? I pray you tell." She answered, “Seven are we: And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the churchyard lie

My sister and my

brother;

And in the churchyard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea;

Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."

Then did the little Maid reply:
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree."

"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the churchyard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"

The little Maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my

And they are side by side.

mother's door,

"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit-
I sit and sing to them.

"And often after sunset, sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was little Jane:
In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain,
And then she went away.

"So in the churchyard she was laid;
And when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

"And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."

"How many are you, then," said I, “If they two are in heaven ?”

The little Maiden did reply,

"Oh, Master, we are seven !"

"But they are dead: those two are dead! Their spirits are in heaven !"

'T was throwing words away; for still The little Maid would have her will,

And said, "Nay, we are seven !"

WORDSWORTH.