THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS. THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, Shall I have nought that is fair, saith he : Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. My Lord has need of these flowerets gay, Dear tokens of the earth are they, They shall all bloom in fields of light, And saints, upon their garments white, And the mother gave, in tears and pain, The flowers she most did love; She knew she should find them all again In the fields of light above. O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, The Reaper came that day; 'T was an angel visited the green earth, And took the flowers away. THE LIGHT OF STARS. THE night is come, but not too soon; And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heaven, But the cold light of stars; And the first watch of night is given To the red planet Mars. Is it the tender star of love? The star of love and dreams? Oh no! from that blue tent above, And earnest thoughts within me rise, When I behold afar, Suspended in the evening skies, O star of strength! I see thee stand Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand, And I am strong again. Within my breast there is no light, I give the first watch of the night |