thing is this that thou has done? thou didst fast and weep for the child, while it was alive; but when the child was dead, thou didst rise and eat bread." And he said, "While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, 'Who can tell whether God will be gracious to me, that the child may live?' But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me."-Second Book of Samuel. A SHORT LIFE MAY BE A PERFECT ONE. Ir is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be, Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant and flower of light! BEN JONSON. THE MOTHER'S SACRIFICE. “WHAT shall I render Thee, Father Supreme, For thy rich gifts, and this the best of all?” Said the young mother, as she fondly watched Her sleeping babe. There was an answering voice That night in dreams : "Thou hast a tender flower Upon thy breast-fed with the dews of love: Send me that flower. Such flowers there are in The crimson velvet of the unfolding bud, The harp-strings rang a thrilling strain, and And that young mother lay upon the earth That stirred her vision: "He who asked of thee, Loveth a cheerful giver." So she raised MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY. TWO ON EARTH AND TWO IN HEAVEN. Two on earth, their little feet Glance like sunbeams round the door; Two in heaven, whose lips repeat Words of blessings evermore. Two on earth, at shut of day, Two in heaven, more blessed than they, Two with crowns of budding flowers Two in heaven's unfading bowers Two on earth, whose merry call Through the silence on my brow. Two on earth, O, day by day, Kneeling at my Father's throne, Thus with pleading heart I pray, "Shepherd, make my lambs thy own!" Two within that sweeter home Oft I gaze with tearful eyes, Where the church-yard daisies blow; Oft my prayers are only sighs, Yearning for my children so. Yet I know the Shepherd's hand Mine is sure a blessed band, Two on earth and two above. EMILY C. HUNTINGDON. THE MEETING. O! WHEN a mother meets on high, Hath she not then for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrows, all her tears, THE LOSS OF A LITTLE CHILD. O! SAY not 't were a keener blow To lose a child of riper years, You cannot feel a mother's woe, You cannot dry a mother's tears: Will love them most while most they want Time must have changed that fair young brow! Time might have changed that spotless heart! Years might have taught deceit - but now In love's confiding dawn we part! With thoughts of peril and of storm, Though all is calm, that beauteous ship Must brave the whirlwind's rudest breath; Though all is calm, that infant's lip Must meet the kiss of death! THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. |