There are songs in the air,
In the vast somewhere,

That were voiced by a brother remote;
They are wending tow'rd you
To make your life new,

If your heart is but tuned to their note.

There are words, there are names,
That will kindle the flames,
That die in the depth of the soul;
They will make your path bright,
Or draw the deep night

Round your life like a darkening scroll.

You are singing a song
To a world-wide throng,

That is hastily crossing your way;

And the peace that you strow,

And the love that you sow,

Will respond in your brother some day.

JOHN GLASS NEACE.

O Lord, we bless Thee for the promise of the day. Thine is the Morning; the day is ours and as it comes with new light and on every hand evidences of new life, make us mindful that it takes a whole universe of law and obedience to provide its coming. It has taken all the yesterdays to make this morning; help us to make this to-day contribute to a better morrow. Amen.

EDWARD F. MILLER.

A sorrower went his way along,
And I heard him sing and say:
“The noon is bright, but soon the night
Will come, the grave of day."

Then I smiled to hear his woeful song

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And sent this word for nay:

"The noon is bright, but the blackest night Cradles another day."

RICHARD BURTON.

O Thou, who hath created the night and the day and doth forever order their coming and going, be pleased to hearken unto us this morning and accept our souls' gratitude for the comforting thought that Thou dost have a far more loving interest in the times of darkness and light which enter into our individual lives. We pray thee let not our "eyes be holden" that we cannot see the silver thread of dawn in the fringes of a midnight pall. May we recognize in death, and all life's starless nights the curtained chariot in which our sunlit day cometh, bearing the balm of hope and new life to all who have waited with tears not remembering that out of shadows the morning ever appears. Amen.

THEODORE F. CLARK.

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Thine the fault, not mine," I cried
Brooding bitterly,

And Fate looked grim and once again
Closed in and grappled me.

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'Mine, not thine, the fault," I said
Discerning unity,

And Fate arose and clasped my hand
And made a man of me.

HAROLD S. SYMNES.

Heavenly Father, open our eyes to all the beauties of this day, and unstop our ears to all its uttered speech. Help us to live in harmony with Thy will, co-operating with all the varied forces that make for truth and righteousness. Help us to see the good and beautiful in all, to rise above all fault-finding and despair, to be courageous in undertaking and strong in doing, to be patient under trial and charitable in all our relations with our fellow-men. May we so live this day under the influence of Thy teachings and example that in us and through us Thy will may be done. Amen.

PAYSON E. PIERCE.

There is no unbelief!

Whoever plants a seed beneath the sod,
And waits to see it push away the clod,
He trusts in God.

Whoever says the clouds are in the sky;
Be patient, heart; light breaketh by-and-by,
Trusts the Most High.

Whoever sees 'neath winter's wealth of snow
The silent harvest of the future grow,
God's power must know.

Whoever lies down in his couch to sleep,
Content to lock his sense in slumber deep,
Knows God will keep.

And day by day and night unconsciously
The heart lives by that faith the lips deny

God knoweth why.

ANONYMOUS.

O God, our heavenly Father, we are so glad we can begin this day with Thee. While we slept Thou didst keep Thy great universe going on its perfect way, and our unconscious powers have once more awaked because Thou madest us to dwell in safety. Thou hast refreshed our bodies, strengthen also our spirits that we may live as Thy children should. Be with us in our going out and our coming in. Fill our hearts with gratitude for all Thy mercies, speak to us of our every experience, and help us to serve Thee by this day's work and play. Amen.

JOSEPH M. SHEPLER.

Rather bid her go forth bravely,
And the stranger greet;

Not as foe, with spear and buckler,
But as dear friends meet;

Bid her with a strong clasp hold her
By her dusky wings —

Listening for the murmured blessing
Sorrow always brings.

ADELAIDE A. PROCTER.

God and Father of all, we thank Thee for every sunny hour and every day that is bright and full of joy or peace. We ask only that we may remember the darker way, the clouded day, the hour of soul enshadowing, the weak and weary tempted moments of our life, and with patience and devotion take up the duties of the present and cheerfully labor to bring truth and righteousness and love, as they are shown in the life of Jesus Christ, into every human heart. Amen.

RALPH E. HORNE.