The life renewed above,
And both within the scheme

Of that all-circling love.

The seeming chance that cast us hither
Accomplishes his whence and whither.

Then, though the sun go up
His beaten azure way,
God may fulfill his thought,
And bless his world to-day;
Beside the law of things

The law of mind enthrone,
And, for the hope of all,

Reveal himself in one;

Himself the way that leads us thither,
The All-in-all, the Whence and Whither.
FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE.

Easter.

IN Thee, thou Son of God, in Thee I rest.
The immortality by sages guessed,

Hath not the rocky strength thy promise gives,
That who believes in Thee forever lives.

The worm on wings disporting is not here

The same that wove its shroud the vanished year.
The flowers breathe out their fragrance and decay,
The towering woods grow old and pass away;
The flowers return, but not the same that vied
For last year's prize of beauty, and then died;
Resurgent woods again their branches spread,
But not the same that prostrate lie and dead.
O reproducing Nature! from thy strife,
Comes never same, but always other life.
Men die, but lives right on humanity,-
So said a Greek ;- not this enough for me;

Shall I myself relive?-the quest I raise.
To share an undistinguishable haze

Of being, and, immerged in that vast sea,

To lose what most I ask, MYSELF TO BE,

Is empty vision, Seer of Attic clime,

Or Greek more earth-born of our modern time.

O man of Calvary, O Son of God,

I mark the path thy holy footsteps trod,
Through death to life, thy Living Self to me
Potence and pledge of immortality!

SEWALL SYLVESTER CUTTING.

If I Should Die To-night.

IF I should die to-night,

My friends would look upon my quiet face
Before they laid it in its resting-place,

And deem that death had left it almost fair;
And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair,
Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness,
And fold my hands with lingering caress, -
Poor hands, so empty and so cold to-night !

If I should die to-night,

My friends would call to mind, with loving thought,
Some kindly deed the icy hands had wrought,

Some gentle word the frozen lips had said,
Errands on which the willing feet had sped;
The memory of my selfishness and pride,

My hasty words, would all be put aside,

And so I should be loved and mourned to-night.

If I should die to-night,

Even hearts estranged would turn once more to me,
Recalling other days remorsefully;

The eyes that chill me with averted glance
Would look upon me as of yore, perchance,

And soften in the old familiar way;

For who could war with dumb, unconscious clay?
So I might rest, forgiven of all, to-night.

O friends, I pray to-night,

Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow;
The way is lonely, let me feel them now.
Think gently of me; I am travel-worn;

My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn.
Forgive, O hearts estranged, forgive, I plead !
When dreamless rest is mine, I shall not need
The tenderness for which I long to-night.

BELLE E. SMITH.

O May E Join the Choir Envisible.

Longum illud tempus quum non ero magis me movet quam hoc exiguum.-CICERO.

O MAY I join the choir invisible

Of those immortal dead who live again

In minds made better by their presence: live

In pulses stirred to generosity,

In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn

For miserable aims that end with self,

In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,
And with their mild persistence urge man's search
To vaster issues. So to live is heaven :
To make undying music in the world,
Breathing as beauteous order that controls
With growing sway the growing life of man.
So we inherit that sweet purity

For which we struggled, failed, and agonized
With widening retrospect that bred despair.
Rebellious flesh that would not be subdued,
A vicious parent shaming still its child
Poor anxious penitence, is quick dissolved;

Its discords, quenched by meeting harmonies,
Die in the large and charitable air.

And all our rarer, better, truer self,

That sobbed religiously in yearning song,
That watched to ease the burthen of the world,
Laboriously tracing what must be,

And what may yet be better

saw within

A worthier image for the sanctuary,
And shaped it forth before the multitude
Divinely human, raising worship so

To higher reverence more mixed with love-
That better self shall live till human Time
Shall fold its eyelids, and the human sky
Be gathered like a scroll within the tomb
Unread forever. This is life to come,

Which martyred men have made more glorious
For us who strive to follow. May I reach
That purest heaven, be to other souls
The cup of strength in some great agony,
Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love,
Beget the smiles that have no cruelty —
Be the sweet presence of a good diffused,
And in diffusion ever more intense.
So shall I join the choir invisible
Whose music is the gladness of the world.

Cuddle Boon.

GEORGE ELIOT.

THE bairnies cuddle doon at nicht,
Wi' mickle faucht an' din;

"O try and sleep, ye waukrife rogues,
Your faither's comin' in."

They never heed a word I speak ;

I try to gie a froon,

But aye I hap them up, an' cry,

"O bairnies, cuddle doon.”

Wee Jamie wi the curly head

He aye sleeps next the wa' Bangs up an' cries, "I want a piece!"

The rascal starts them a'.

I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks,
They stop awee the soun',

Then draw the blankets up, an' cry,

But ere five minutes gang wee Rab
Cries oot frae 'neath the claes,
"Mither, mak' Tam gie ower at ance,
He's kittlin wi' his taes."

The mischief's in that Tam for tricks,
He'd bother half the toon,

But aye I hap them up, an' cry, "O bairnies, cuddle doon."

At length they hear their father's fit,
An' as he steeks the door

They turn their faces to the wa',

While Tam pretends to snore.

"Hae a' the weans been gude ?" he asks As he pits off his shoon.

"The bairnies, John, are in their beds,

An' lang since cuddled doon."

An' just afore we bed oorsel'

We look at oor wee lambs;

Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck,

An' Rab his airm roun' Tam's.

I lift wee Jamie up the bed,
An' as I straik each croon

I whisper, till my heart fills up,
“O bairnies, cuddle doon.”