We are but small,— but we can bring
The willing hand, the trusting heart,
The Faith, that harvest sees in spring,
And will not from the way depart!

PRIDE.

How sorrowful to see a child of earth
Assuming pride;

The pride of Beauty, Talents, Riches, Birth,
Since they have died

Who held them in their keeping, and the Pall
Hath covered them as it hath covered all!

The worm heeds not the beauty of the skin
On which it crawls,

Nor if the brain be large which lies within
The skull's thick walls;

Nor if the bony fingers, icy cold,

Held once within their grasp high heaps of gold.

The golden grain bows low to ev'ry weed—
Nor to the light

Is it less golden with its shining seed;
Perhaps 'tis right

The empty ear should keep, like pride, erect,
Conceal its emptiness, to gain respect !

He who can pass without a look or word
A little child,

Hath not His spirit, whose kind voice was heard
In accents mild,

Giving his blessing with a holy grace

To them whose Angels saw his Father's face.

The poor are always with us, and they cry
Each day for bread;

But Pride oft whispers men to pass them by,
And have it said

They gave donations for some public good,
Rather than furnish starving mortals food!

Thou who wast meek and lowly, be our guide.
Till life shall end!

Far from us be all vain and foolish pride
Thee to offend.

Then shall we feel the same towards great and small,
Knowing our Father, God, doth love them all!

HOPE.

Within the heart a merry bird

Poured out through life's dull toils its music sweet; What though one soul alone its warblings heard, And to itself its carols would repeat !

Tempest nor cold could drive the bird away

Through leafless boughs still swept its tireless song,

Sadder, perhaps, when skies were lowering gray,
But with the rosy tints how loud, how long.

Hunger nor thirst could bid the bird depart,
Around for want's scant crumbs its warbling flew ;
In the forsaken chambers of the heart,
Through poverty, its lays the sweeter grew.

And when despair the cage wide open set,
Still did it linger; still it would not go ;—
Its daily welcome it could not forget,

It had its cheering notes, even for woe!

And when affection's hand must loose its hold,
And loving accents fail the death-dulled ear,
Still in the heart its wings 'twill softly fold,
Still will its song the passing spirit cheer.

GOLDEN LIGHT ON THE SCHOOL ROOM WALL.

Golden light on the school room wall
Shed by the sun's warm, kindly beams;
Young eyes follow it, leave the page

Of the dull, dull book to sit and dream;
Dream of the forest, the lake, the stream,

Thickets green by the south wind stirred,
Squirrels leaping from bough to bough,
Carols twittered by happy bird.
Golden light on the school room wall

Speaks of nature, of freedom, joy;

Where Earth Mother doth kindly take,
Lead by the hand each wand'ring boy,
Train his eye by her many sights,

Harden his hands and limbs for toil,
Win his heart by her free delights

Ever springing from stream and soil,
Humble mosses their message bear;

Lab'ring insects their maxims teach;
Flowers give forth on the morning air
Lessons of purity without speech.
Golden light on the schoolroom wall
Paints its pictures of unseen joy,-
Hedgerows blossom and berries hang-
Nuts shake down to the dreaming boy.
Lessons given the youthful mind

Should be more than a dull employ,
Full of trouble, of sorrow and fret;
Every lesson should bring a joy;

So that the schoolroom's hours should be
Like the woodland, the lake, the stream,

And the light of the child's bright eye

Fearless and glad meet the morning's beam.

LINES

To a Mummy a thousand years old, from whose finger a ring was taken.

O dead, dead Face, embalmed with love and care,
Preserved a thousand years, crumbling at last;
Where is the smile those features used to wear,
The tender blushes now forever past?

Whose hand adorned thee with this ancient ring,
A thousand years agone- that speaks to-day?
Did lover, husband, the small token bring,
And bid so long the little circlet cling,

Till life, and hope, and love had passed away?

This little circlet, preaching here to-day

Of the old tale Earth's ears remember well,— Emblem of Love, whose bound, Eternity,— That passes on with kindred souls to dwell.

Take back, O Earth, unto thy breast thy child! Let Dust to Dust in kind embrace return; Bring back in flowers the beauty that has smiled, In rosy clover let past blushes burn.

Let blue eyes look from where sweet violets hide, Gay in the sunshine or begemmed with dew; And like their fragrance, happy thoughts abide Embalmed in hearts, of all the good and true.

That true embalmment in the heart's urn deep, Wrapped up in thoughts and holy memories, Death takes not when he bids the body sleep, It rises soul-like to the waiting skies.

LITTLE CHILDREN.

What is their mission, little ones,

In this rough, weary world of ours?