"Greeting!" "And may you speak, indeed?" All in the dark her sense grew clearer; She knew that she had, for company, All day an angel near her. "May you tell us of the life divine, To us unknown, to angels given?" "Count me your earthly joys, and I May teach you those of heaven." "They say the pleasures of earth are vain ; "And while he quickens the air with song, My breaths with scent, my fruits with flavor, Will he, dear angel, count as sin My life in sound and savor? "See, at our feet the glow-worm shines, Lo! in the east a star arises; And thought may climb from worm to world Forever through fresh surprises: "And thought is joy. . . . And, hark! in the vale Music, and merry steps pursuing; They leap in the dance, -a soul in my blood Cries out, Awake, be doing! "Action is joy; or power at play, Or power at work in world or emprises: Action is life; part from the deed, More from the doing rises." "And are these all?" She flushed in the dark. "These are not all. I have a lover; At sound of his voice, at touch of his hand, The cup of my life runs over. "Once, unknowing, we looked and neared, And doubted, and neared, and rested never, Till life seized life, as flame meets flame, To escape no more forever. "Lover and husband; then was love The wine of my life, all life enhancing: Now 't is my bread, too needful and sweet To be kept for feast-day chancing. VESPERS. ELIZABETH H. WHITTIER. WHEN I have said my quiet say, I thought beside the water's flow What matter now for promise lost, Thou lovest still the poor; O, blest I come to thee with empty hands, 273 O, SWEET and fair! O, rich and rare! That day so long ago. The autumn sunshine everywhere, The heather all aglow, The ferns were clad in cloth of gold, The waves sang on the shore. O, fit and few! O, tried and true! And so in earnest play The hours flew past, until at last The twilight kissed the shore. We said, "Such days shall come again Forever evermore." LUCY LARCOM. [U. s. A.] A STRIP OF BLUE. I Do not own an inch of land, They bring me tithes divine, Richer am I than he who owns I freight them with my untold dreams, Sometimes they seem like living shapes,~ All souls find sailing-room. The ocean grows a weariness With nothing else in sight; Its east and west, its north and south, Spread out from morn to night: We miss the warm, caressing shore, Its brooding shade and light. A part is greater than the whole; By hints are mysteries told; The fringes of eternity, God's sweeping garment-fold, In that bright shred of glimmering sea, I reach out for, and hold. |