Joy is like restless day: but peace divine Like quiet night; Lead me, O Lord, till perfect day shall shine ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. Trust HE clouds hang heavy round my way,· THE I cannot see; But thro' the darkness I believe God leadeth me. 'Tis sweet to keep my hand in His, To close my weary, aching eyes Thro' many a thorny path He leads Thro' many a path of tears I go, To know that He is close to me, He leadeth me; and so I walk Quite satisfied. MY The Toys little son, who look'd from thoughtful eyes And moved and spoke in quiet grown-up wise, Having my law the seventh time disobey'd, With hard words and unkiss'd, His mother, who was patient, being dead. But found him slumbering deep, With darken'd eyelids, and their lashes yet From his late sobbing wet, And I, with moan, Kissing away his tears, left others of my own; For on a table drawn beside his head He had put within his reach A box of counters and a red-vein'd stone, A bottle with bluebells, And two French copper coins, ranged there with careful art, To comfort his sad heart. So when that night I pray'd To God, I wept, and said: Ah, when at last we lie with tranced breath, And Thou rememberest of what toys We made our joys, How weakly understood Thy great commanded good, Then, fatherly not less Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay, Thou'lt leave Thy wrath and say, "I will be sorry for their childishness.” COVENTRY PATMORE. 'Tis I, be not Afraid OSSED with rough winds and faint with fear, What still small accents greet mine ear? "'Tis I, be not afraid. "'Tis I who led thy steps aright; 'Tis I, be not afraid. "These raging winds, this surging sea, "The bitter cup fear not to drink; 'Tis I, be not afraid. "Mine eyes are watching by thy bed, Mine arms are underneath thy head, My blessing is around thee shed; 'Tis I, be not afraid. "When on the other side thy feet Shall rest 'mid thousand welcomes sweet, 'Tis I, be not afraid." From out the dazzling Majesty Gently He lays His hand on thee, 'Twas not in vain I died for thee; 'Tis I, be not afraid." ELIZABETH CHARLES, OUT Out of Shadow UT of shadow into sunlight, So oft we tread unheeding May dawn a glad to-morrow. MARY DWINELL CHELLIS. The Sunrise never failed us Yet PON the sadness of the sea UPON The sunset broods regretfully; So out of life the splendor dies; And up the east another day Shall chase the bitter dark away : What though our eyes with tears be wet? The sunrise never failed us yet. |