How can a Mother's heart feel cold or weary

Knowing her dearer self safe, happy, warm? How can she feel her road too dark or dreary

Who knows her treasure sheltered from the storm.

How can she sin? Our hearts may be unheeding,
Our God forgot, our holy saints defied;
But can a Mother hear her dead child pleading,
And thrust those little angel hands aside?

we all

Those little hands stretched down to draw her ever
Nearer to God by Mother love:
Are blind and weak, yet surely she can never,
With such a stake in Heaven, fail or fall.

She knows that when the mighty Angels raise
Chorus in Heaven, one little silver tone

Is hers forever, that one little praise,

One little happy voice, is all her own.

Ah, Saints in Heaven may pray with earnest will
And pity for their weak and erring brothers:
Yet, there is prayer in Heaven more tender still,
The little Children pleading for their Mothers.

A CASTLE IN THE AIR.

The fancies of my twilights

That fade in sober truth, The longing of my sorrow, And the vision of my youth;

The plans of joyful futures;
So dear they used to seem;
The prayer that rose unbidden,
Half prayer — and half a dream;

The hopes that died unuttered
Within this heart of mine:
For all these tender treasures
My castle was the shrine.

I looked at all the castles

That rise to grace the land,

But I never saw another
So stately or so grand.

And now you see it shattered,
My castle in the air;

It lies a dreary ruin,
All desolate and bare.

I cannot build another,

I saw that one decay;

And strength and heart and courage
Died out the self-same day.

105

Yet still, beside that ruin,

With hopes as deep and fond, I waited with an infinite longing, Only I look beyond.

D°

FRIEND SORROW.

not cheat thy Heart and tell her,
"Grief will pass away,

Hope for fairer times in future,
And forget to-day."—

Tell her, if you will, that sorrow
Need not come in vain ;

Tell her that the lesson taught her

Far outweighs the pain.

Cheat her not with the old comfort,

"Soon she will forget,".

Bitter truth, alas! but matter

Rather for regret;

Bid her not "Seek other pleasures,

Turn to other things:
Rather nurse her cagèd sorrow
Till the captive sings.

Rather bid her go forth bravely,

And the stranger greet;

Not as foe, with spear and buckler,
But as dear friends meet;

ONE BY ONE.

Bid her with a strong clasp hold her,
By her dusky wings,

Listening for the murmured blessing
Sorrow always brings.

JUDGE NOT.

GE not ...

JUDGE

fall thou darest to despise May be ..

that he may rise

And take a firmer, surer stand:

Or, trusting less to earthly things,
May henceforth learn to use his wings.

ONE

ONE BY ONE.

E by one the sands are flowing, One by one the moments fall; Some are coming, some are going;

Do not strive to grasp them all.

One by one thy duties wait thee,

Let thy whole strength go to each,

Let no future dreams elate thee,

Learn thou first what these can teach.

One by one (bright gifts from Heaven)
Joys are sent thee here below;
Take them readily when given,
Ready too to let them go.

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One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, Do not fear an armèd band;

One will fade as others greet thee; Shadows passing through the land.

Do not look on life's long sorrow;
See how small each moment's pain;
God will help thee for to-morrow,
So each day begin again.

Every hour that fleets so slowly
Has its task to do or bear;
Luminous the crown, and holy,
When each gem is set with care.

Do not linger with regretting,
Or for passing hours despond;
Nor, the daily toil forgetting,
Look too eagerly beyond.

Hours are golden links, God's token, Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them, lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.

MY JOURNAL.

T is a dreary evening;

IT

The shadows rise and fall:

With strange and ghostly changes,
They flicker on the wall.