THE BIRTH OF MORNING. PURE, calm, diffused, the twilight of the morn Than the half-loving sunbeam, never leaves A gate admits us to the hill we seek ; Through woods a track upon the turf we find; The trees are dripping dew, their tall stems creak And rub together when the morning wind Lightly caresses them. We pause, to mind The note of one awakened bird, whose cry, Quaint and repeated, is not like its kind. Our ears are ignorant. Now up the high And mossy slope we climb, beneath an open sky. We reach the summit. Earth is in a dream Of misty seas, and islands strangely bornThe unreal, from reality. The stream Of wraith-like sights, which, ere he can be torn From peaceful sleep, delights the travel-worn At slumber's painted gate, is not more wild Bids her awaken. So a dreaming child Looks through white angel wings, and sees all undefiled. The blessed dream-land fancy of the young, Of calm, and God is calm. How mortals wage Reason fights through the false, but fancy feels the true. Household Words. FELLOW WORKERS. FROM the crevice of a cloudlet, In the eastern grey, Came a beauteous beam of lightness, Stole upon the lands; Joyfully the leaves and grasses Clapp'd their dew-wet hands! I Over field and over forest, Like a messenger in earnest, By a quiet shady hedge-row, Where we love to linger, reading There a tender shoot of greenness And, with streaming hands of silver, Bent she down in prayer, While a murmur, indistinctly, Rose upon the air. Oh, behold this gem of beauty Passing into life? Come, thou golden god of noontide, I will tint its slender leaflet And its fragile flower; Ray of sunshine-fellow worker Light and heat were fellow workers, For the flower was passing lovely, There are many germs of goodness Dormant in each breast, Lying there in sad half-slumber And unquiet rest. Fain they would both bud and blossom, To the distant goal. Come, oh, silvery beam of knowledge! To a speaking, healthy action For this thou wert sent. Be thou too a fellow-worker, Glowing ray of love! Pierce within the shelter'd hedge-row, Draw the germ above: Souls that else were poor and lifeless ANON. COWARDICE. THE veriest coward upon earth Is he who fears the world's opinion, Mind is not worth a feather's weight, That must with other minds be measured. Self must direct, and self control, And the account in heaven be treasured. Fear never sways a manly soul, For honest hearts 'twas ne'er intended; They, only they, have cause to fear, Whose motives have their God offended. What will my neighbour say, if I Should this attempt, or that, or t'other? A neighbour is most sure a foe, If he prove not a helping brother. That man is brave who braves the world, A conscience clear, which never veereth. E. C. HARLEY. |