Was that a branch that shed its load? Is that a tapping-soft and low? Can it be... I thought I heard. . . but no, "Twas only a branch that shed its snow,God's truth! I am getting old! Come home again to the fold. Dear Lord! a hand at the frozen pane! O my lamb! my lamb! are you come again? Are you come again to the fold? It is! Lord, . . It is! . . . Now I thank Thee, For Thy Mercies manifold! She is come again! She is home again! My lamb that strayed from the fold! BIDE A WEE! Though the times be dark and dreary, Keep your spirits bright and cheery,- Is a heartsome song. THE WORD THAT WAS LEFT UNSAID "A red rose for my helmet, Heart, Heart, Heart of my heart- She toyed with his love and her roses; She dropped him a rose-'twas a white one, Heart, Heart, Heart of my heart! She sought him among the dying, Heart, Heart, Heart of my heart! And alas for the sign! And the word that was left unsaid! DON'T WORRY Just do your best, And leave the rest To Him who gave you Life, And Zeal for Labour, And the Joy of Strife, And Zest of Love, And all that lifts your soul above The lower things. Life's truest harvest is in what we would, And strive our best for, Not most in what we could. As How and Why. All-Seeing Sight Cleaves through the husk of things, Right to the Roots and Springs,— Sees all things whole, And measures less the body than the soul. All-Righteous Right Will weigh men's motives, Not their deeds alone. End and Beginning unto Him are one; And would for could shall oft, perchance, atone. Motives are seeds, From which at times spring deeds Not equal to the soul's outreaching hope. Count nought well done but best! Then, with brave patience, leave the rest To Him who knows. He'll judge you justly ere the record close. THE GOLDEN ROSE The Golden Rose is blowing still, The Golden Rose still breaks and blows, glows, 'Mid icy blasts, and wintry snows, The Golden Rose still breaks and blows;- The Golden Rose can never die, GADARA, A.D. 81 Rabbi, begone! Thy powers His soul? What care we for his soul? whole, Since we have lost our swine? And Christ went sadly. He had wrought for them a sign Of Love, and Hope, and Tenderness divine; They wanted-swine. Christ stands without your door and gently knocks; But if your gold, or swine, the entrance blocks, He forces no man's hold-he will depart, No cumbered chamber will the Master share, But one swept bare By cleansing fires, then plenished fresh and fair With meekness, and humility, and prayer. There will He come, yet, coming, even there He stands and waits, and will no entrance win Until the latch be lifted from within. |