O may we, for assurance sake,
Some arbitrary judgment take,
And wilfully pronounce it clear,
For this or that 'tis we are here?

Or is it right, and will it do,
To pace the sad confusion through,
And say:-
"It doth not yet appear
What we shall be, what we are here"?

Ah yet, when all is thought and said,
The heart still overrules the head;
Still what we hope we must believe,
And what is given us receive;

Must still believe, for still we hope
That in a world of larger scope,
What here is faithfully begun
Will be completed, not undone.

My child, we still must think, when we

That ampler life together see,

Some true result will yet appear

Of what we are, together here.

A. H. CLOUGH.

SOME FUTURE DAY.

SOME future day, when what is now is not,
When all old faults and follies are forgot,

And thoughts of difference passed like dreams away,
We'll meet again, upon some future day.

When all that hindered, all that vexed our love,
As tall rank weeds will climb the blade above,
When all but it has yielded to decay,

We'll meet again upon some future day.

When we have proved, each on his course alone, The wider world, and learnt what's now unknown, Have made life clear, and worked out each a way, We'll meet again,- we shall have much to say.

With happier mood, and feelings born anew,
Our boyhood's bygone fancies we'll review,
Talk o'er old talks, play as we used to play,
And meet again on many a future day.

Some day, which oft our hearts shall yearn to see,
In some far year, though distant yet to be,
Shall we indeed,-ye winds and waters say !—
Meet yet again, upon some future day?

A. H. CLOUGH.

HOPE BENEATH THE WATERS.

"I CANNOT mount to heaven beneath this ban:
Can Christian hope survive so far below
The level of the happiness of man?

Can angels' wings in these dark waters grow?"
A spirit voice replied, "From bearing right
Our sorest burthens, comes fresh strength to bear;
And so we rise again towards the light,
And quit the sunless depths for upper air:
Meek patience is as diver's breath to all
Who sink in sorrow's sea, and many a ray
Comes gleaming downward from the source of day,
To guide us reascending from our fall.

The rocks have bruised thee sore, but angels' wings
Grow best from bruises, hope from anguish springs."
CHARLES TURNER.

TIME WAS, I SHRANK.”

TIME was, I shrank from what was right,
From fear of what was wrong ;

I would not brave the sacred fight,

Because the foe was strong.

But now I cast that finer sense
And sorer shame aside;
Such dread of sin was indolence,
Such aim at heaven was pride.

So, when my Saviour calls, I rise,
And calmly do my best;
Leaving to Him, with silent eyes
Of hope and fear, the rest.

I step, I mount where He has led ;
Men count my haltings o'er ;-

I know them; yet, though self I dread,
I love His precept more.

J. H. NEWMAN.

NOT IN VAIN.

SAY not the struggle nought availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,

The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been they remain.

If hope were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,

And, but for you, possess the field.

1

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,

Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,

When daylight comes, comes in the light,
In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.
A. H. CLOUGH.

SYMBOLS OF VICTORY.

YELLOW leaves on the ash-tree,
Soft glory in the air,

And the streaming radiance of sunshine
On the leaden clouds over there.

At a window a child's mouth smiling,
Overhung with tearful eyes

At the flying rainy landscape

And the sudden opening skies.

Angels hanging from heaven,

A whisper in dying ears,

And the promise of great salvation

Shining on mortal fears.

N