And when the storm has passed away, May she sit down in the green of the day, And where'er she lifts her hand -Gerald Massey ASPIRATIONS OF YOUTH. HIGHER, higher will we climb That our names may live through time Deeper, deeper let us toil In the mines of knowledge, Nature's wealth and learning's spoil Won from school and college; Delve we there for richer gems Than the stars of diadems. Onward, onward may we press Excellence true beauty. Minds are of celestial birth,— Closer, closer let us knit Hearts and hands together, Where our fireside comforts sit Oh! they wander wide who roam -James Montgomery. THERE'S NO DEARTH OF KINDNESS. THERE'S no dearth of kindness Only in our blindness We gather thorns for flowers. Trampling one another, There's no dearth of kindness Full of kindness tingling, There's no dearth of kindness, As the wild rose bloweth, In the heart for ever; There's no dearth of kindness In this world of ours, Only in our blindness We gather thorns for flowers. Life were not worth living Were it not for love. -Gerald Massey. THE CLOUDS. I CANNOT look above, and see Of evening clouds so swimmingly In gold and purple pass, And think not, Lord, how Thou wast seen Before them in Thy shadowy screen Pavilioned all the day Or of those robes of gorgeous hue When, ravished from His followers' view, He curtained His ascent, And, wrapped in clouds, went triumphing Is it a trail of that same pall That high above, o'ermantling all, For in like manner as He went Strength, Son of Man, against that hour When Thou shalt come again with power -R. W. Crosswell. "WHAT is that, mother?" "The lark, my child: Ever, my child. be thy morn's first lays Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise." "What is that, mother?" "The dove, my son; And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan, As the wave is poured from some crystal urn, In friendship as faithful, as constant in love." |