Hark, the lilt of a robin's song!

What cares he for raindrops falling?
Piercing the clouds, the sunbeams dance,
To him, their comrade, calling.

Fresh, shy, and sweet the primrose grows,
Pure, though the earth be mud-defiled;
Rich in beauty, fair in promise,
Smiling like a little child.

Gently speaks a voice, heart-thrilling:
O storm-tossed life, O raging sea,
Peace be to thee, for the Master

Walks again on Galilee !

STELLA E. SAXTON.

Our Father, we are children in Thy home to-day. Help us to look out of the windows of the soul with a purpose to see everything that is happy and beautiful and good on the horizon of Thy world. Help us also to see with tender sympathy the weakness, the weariness and the failures of life. Teach us how to catch the inspiring messages of flowers and of birds and of twinkling stars. Lead us in our days of manhood and womanhood to find inspiration and joy in the challenge that comes out of the potential goodness of lives now wrong that may be made right, now weak that may be made strong by the boundless love of our Saviour. Amen.

MYRON E. ADAMS.

We can always lift a little more,
Always shift a little more,

Always toil a little more

Than we thought we could.

Struggle, when the tide seems strong.
Honest, when the world goes wrong,
We can always do a little more
For the common good.

FOLGER MCKINSEY.

Our Heavenly Father, Thou art our Refuge and Strength. When weariness and sorrow and care weigh us down, we "lift our eyes unto the hills from whence cometh our help." We "can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth us." May we abide in him and he in us evermore. Help us to bear the burdens of this day more patiently; to perform its duties more faithfully; and to make the world better and happier this day than ever before through the sweetness and courage and power of a "life that is hid with Christ in God." Amen.

EDWARD C. WINSLOW.

I entered a gloomy valley

Where the air was damp and chill,
And the dewdrops seemed like teardrops
As they heavy hung and still;
And my soul was as dark as the shadows
That lay in the somber vale,

And the fears that sprang within me
Bade hope and courage fail.

Above, on a tree-branch, a songster
Burst forth into melody sweet;
A tremor of hope stirred within me,
I wonderingly rose to my feet;
And lo, just before me the pathway
That led from the valley of gloom,
Inviting my feet to the uplands

Aflame with their sunshine and bloom!
JOHN GAYLORD Davenport.

Father of unforgetting Love, to-day shall be glad with new hope and confidence and joy; to-day shall we know how seeming failures have their victories, and the unavailing conflicts of yesterdays accumulate to steadfast triumphs for to-day, as we face with each new morning the unquenchable glory of our fearless faith in Thee. Make us resolute and brave and eager, greeting the incoming seas of Thy renewing life with stalwart joy, sure that the way of life Thou sharest with us is ever progressward. Amen.

GEORGE HENRY BADGER.

I like the suggestion that the way the eagle got his wings and went soaring up toward the sun, grew out of the impulse to soar. Something within the creature whispered, "Get up there into the blue heavens, don't be content to crawl down in the marsh. Out with you!" And so somehow through what would seem to us to be an eternity of trying, it was done at last, and there he was, as I have seen him, soaring over the blue summits, screaming out his delight and spreading his pinions twelve feet, they said, from tip to tip.

I like the suggestion because it is so true to the life we also have to live trying and failing; intending great things, and doing little things, many of us, after all.

ROBERT COllyer.

O Thou, the glory of the world, without, within, we thank Thee for this stirring in ourselves of the impulse to aspire, to strive, to mount from height to height in quest of a more perfect life. We have never yet done completely anything that we have tried to do; but Thou wilt not let us sink into despair. Each new morning calls us to fresh endeavor. Each coming day holds opportunities, unrealized before, of ascending nearer to Thine unapproachable light. So may it be to-day! May this be a day of striving to the uttermost, a day of overcoming difficulties, of realizing our own inner possibilities, and of mounting ever closer to the perfection that is Thine alone. Amen.

RICHARD WILSON BOYNTON.

A weaver standing at his loom one day,

Wrought with uncertain hand some strange design. A tangled mesh it seemed, line blurring line,

warp and woof astray

Unsuited contrasts
Sometimes he paused and pushed his work away.

"The task is hopeless," said he, and he sighed, But patiently resumed; and one by one

The broken threads were mended. When 'twas done He turned the frame, and lo! upon that side

A radiant light his startled eyes did greet.
What seemed confusion had been hidden law,
And the designer's dream at last he saw
Resulting, lovely, perfect and complete.

ANONYMOUS.

Heavenly Father, support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen, and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done! Then in Thy mercy, wilt Thou give us a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last. Amen.

CARDINAL NEWMAN.