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THE VOICE IN THE TWILIGHT.

Then straightway I knew His meaning,
So full of compassion and love,
And my faith came back to its Refuge,
Like the glad returning dove.

For I thought when the Master Builder
Comes down His temple to view,

To see what rents must be mended,
And what must be builded anew;

Perhaps, as He looks o'er the building,
He will bring my work to the light,
And seeing the marring and bungling,
And how far it all is from right,

He will feel as I felt for my darling,
And will say, as I said for her,
"Dear child, she wanted to help me,
And love for me was the spur.

"And for the real love that is in it,
The work shall seem perfect as mine;

And because it was willing service,
I will crown it with plaudit divine."

And there in the deepening twilight
I seemed to be clasping a Hand,
And to feel a great love constraining me,
Stronger than any command.

HYMN OF TRUST.

Then I knew by the thrill of sweetness
'Twas the Hand of the Blessed One,
Which would tenderly guide and hold me
Till all the labor is done.

So my thoughts are nevermore gloomy,
My faith no longer is dim;

But my heart is strong and restful,
And mine eyes are unto Him.

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HYMN OF TRUST.

O LOVE Divine, that stoops to share
Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear,
On Thee we cast each earth-born care,
We smile at pain while Thou art near!

Though long the weary way we tread,
And sorrow crown each lingering year,
No path we shun, no darkness dread,
Our hearts still whispering Thou art near!

When drooping pleasure turns to grief,
And trembling faith is changed to fear,
The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf,
Shall softly tell us Thou art near!

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THE GOLDEN SUNSET.

On Thee we fling our burdening woe,
O Love Divine, forever dear,
Content to suffer while we know,

Living and dying, Thou art near!

O. W. HOLMES.

THE GOLDEN SUNSET.

The golden sea its mirror spreads
Beneath the golden skies,

And but a narrow strip between
Of earth and shadow lies.

The cloud-like rock, the rock-like cloud,
Dissolved in glory float;

And midway of the radiant flood

Hangs silently the boat!

The sea but seems another sky,

The sky a sea as well;

And which is earth and which is heaven

The eye can scarcely tell.

So, when from us life's evening hour
Soft fading shall descend,

May glory born of earth and Heaven

The earth and Heaven blend;

THE WATER AND THE FLOWER.

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Flooded with peace, the parting soul
With silent rapture glow,

Till where earth ends and Heaven begins

The spirit scarce can know.

THE WATER AND THE FLOWER.

A MEMORY.

One quiet eve, some years ago, whilst lingering by a

stile

That ran along a wayside path, to watch the clouds

awhile,

Ere thought had lifted from my heart the shadow of her wing,

I saw a child—a little girl-returning from the spring. Her well-filled pitcher lightly pressed her curls of silken hair,

Supported by a tiny hand, and she was very fair, With something in her sunny face pure as the sky above,

And something in her gentle eye that guardian angels love.

A little flower blossoming, a step or so aside,

This happy child of innocence with sudden joy espied;

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THE WATER AND THE FLOWER.

Then letting down her pitcher, with the same sweet joyous song,

She watered it half laughingly, and gaily tripped along. The flower seemed to raise its head, bowed by a sum

mer's sun,

And smile beneath the act which she unconsciously had done;

Whilst wandering on, with fairy tread, as merry as

before,

I saw her pass the garden gate and close the cottage

door.

O, often when this little scene has crossed my thoughts 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 scene-the water and the flower;