Stanzas.

EACH CAN DO SOMETHING.

HAT if the little rain should say,
"So small a drop as I

Can ne'er refresh those thirsty fields;

I'll tarry in the sky."

What if the shining beam of noon

Should in its fountain stay,

Because its single light alone
Cannot create a day.

Does not each rain-drop help to form

The cool refreshing shower? And every ray of light to warm And beautify the flower?

Then let each child its influence give,
O Lord! to truth and thee;

So shall its power by all be felt,

However small it be.

347

Southern Churchman.

STANZAS.

HEY told me in my earlier years,

Life was a dark and tangled web;

A gloomy sea of bitter tears,

Where Sorrow's influx had no ebb.

But such was vainly taught and said,

My laugh rang out with joyous tone; The woof possessed one brilliant thread Of brilliant colours, all my own.

They talked of trials, sighs, and grief,
And called the world a wilderness;
Where dazzling bud or fragrant leaf

But rarely sprung to cheer and bless.

But there was one dear precious flower
Engrafted in my bosom's core,

Which made my home an Eden bower,
And caused a doubt if heaven held more.

I boasted-till a mother's grave

Was heaped and sodded-then I found The sunshine stricken from the wave,

And all the golden thread unwound.

Where was the flower I had worn

So fondly, closely, in my heart?
The bloom was crushed, the root was torn,
And left a cureless, bleeding part.

Preach on who will: say, "Life is sad,"
I'll not refute as once I did;

You'll find the eye that beamed so glad
Will hide a tear beneath its lid.

Preach on of woe; the time hath been

I'd praise the world with shadeless brow: The dream is broken-I have seen

A mother die :-I'm silent now.

ELIZA COOK.

Farewell.

349

A FAREWELL.

Y fairest child, I have no song to give you;
No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray :
Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you
For every day.

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;
Do noble things, not dream them, all day long;
And so make life, death, and that vast For-ever
One grand, sweet song.

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

愛您

FAREWELL.

HEN eyes are beaming

What never tongue might tell;

When tears are streaming

From their crystal cell,

When hands are linked that dread to part,

And heart is met by throbbing heart,

Oh, bitter, bitter is the smart

Of them that bid farewell!

When hope is chidden

That fain of bliss would tell,
And love forbidden

In the breast to dwell,

When, fettered by a viewless chain,
We turn and gaze and turn again,
Oh, death were mercy to the pain

Of those that bid farewell!

H:

PART V.-HYMNS AND SACRED PIECES.

GOD'S CARE.

HAT secret hand, at morning light,

Softly unseals mine eye,

Draws back the curtain of the night,

And opens earth and sky?

'Tis thine, my God,—the same that kept
My resting hours from harm;
No ill came nigh me, for I slept
Beneath the Almighty's arm.

'Tis thine my daily bread that brings,
Like manna scattered round,
And clothes me, as the lily springs
In beauty from the ground.

In death's dark valley though I stray,
'Twould there my steps attend,
Guide with thy staff my lonely way,
And with thy rod defend.

God is Good.

May that sure hand uphold me still
Through life's uncertain race,
To bring me to thy holy hill,

And to thy dwelling-place.

MONTGOMERY.

351

GOD IS GOOD.

OD is good! each perfumed flower,

The smiling fields, the dark-green wood,

The insect, fluttering for an hour,—

All things proclaim that God is good.

I hear it in the rushing wind;

The hills that have for ages stood, And clouds, with gold and silver lined, Are still repeating, God is good.

Each little rill that many a year,

Has the same verdant path pursued,

And every bird, in accents clear,

Join in the song that God is good.

The restless main, with haughty roar,
Calms each wild wave and billow rude,

Retreats submissive from the shore,

And swells the chorus, God is good.

The countless hosts of beaming stars

Sing out his praise with light renewed;

The rising sun each day declares,

In rays of glory, God is good.