One quiet eve, some years ago, while lingering by a stile That led into a wayside path, to watch the clouds a while, Ere Thought had lifted from my heart the shadow of her wing, I saw a child a little girl-returning from a spring. A little flower, blossoming a step or so aside, This happy child of innocence with sudden joy espied; And, letting down her pitcher, with the same sweet, joyous song, She watered it, half-laughingly, and gayly tripped along. The flower seemed to raise its head, bowed by a summer's sun, And smile beneath the act the child unconsciously had done; Oh! often when this little scene has crossed my thought again, I've wondered if, with all the love that warmed her spirit then, This little girl has tripped through life as joyous to the last, Refreshing all the weary hearts that met her as she passed; If, with unconscious tenderness, her heart has paused to bless The poor amid their poverty, the sad in their distress; Still following up God's teachings day by day, and hour by hour, Foreshadowed in that simple act, the water and the flower; If, with a song as pure and sweet, that voice has hushed to rest The troubles of the aching heart, the sorrow-laden breast; If to the wayside wanderer, where'er her steps have led, The pitcher has been lowered ever kindly from her head. O holy, happy Charity! how many pleasures lost By those who have not known thee, had been worthy of the cost! How many heads a blessing from the upper world have borne, While lowering the pitcher to the weary and the worn! Thou who hast stood beside God's spring of blessings day. by day, To fill the pitcher of thy wants, and carry it away, The poor and the dejected, whom God hath willed to roam, thee; And deem it not a trouble, in the hedge-row or the town, To linger where the weary are, and let the pitcher down. Selected. THE FIVE LOAVES. What time the Saviour spread his feast The abundant store supplied. Haply the wonders to behold, A boy, 'mid other boys he came, A lamb of Jesus' fold, Though now unknown by name. Or, for his sweet, obedient ways, The apostles brought him near to share His frugal basket bear. Or, might it be his duteous heart To the world's hidden King? Well may I guess how glowed his cheek, How he looked down, half pride, half fear : Far off he heard one speak Of him in Jesus' ear. "There is a lad, -five loaves hath he, And fishes twain; but what are they Nay, Christ will find a way. In order, on the fresh green hill, The mighty Shepherd ranks his sheep By tens and fifties, still As clouds when breezes sleep. Oh! who can tell the trembling joy, Who paint the grave, endearing look, The wondrous pledge he took? Keep thou, dear child, thine early word; Bring Him thy best: who knows but he, For his eternal board, May take some gift of thee? Thou prayest without the vail as yet; Such prayers will duly set Within the holiest shrine. And prayer has might to spread and grow: Even as he made that stripling's store Type of the feast by Him decreed, And souls for ever feed. Lyra Innocentium. AN EASTERN LEGEND. One evening, Jesus lingered in the market-place, Teaching the people parables of truth and grace; When, in the square remote, a crowd was seen to rise, And stop with loathing gestures and abhorring cries. The Master and his meek disciples went to see |