MIDNIGHT.

FAR off the clocks are striking,
'Tis midnight's deepest shade,
The lamp but feebly glimmers, -
Thy little bed is made.

Around the house go mourning
The winds so drearily ;

Within we sit in silence,

And listen, as for thee.

Dreaming that we shall hear thee
Knock softly at the door,
Aweary with thy wandering,
Glad to return once more.

Poor fools! thus to dissemble!
The fond hope will not stay;
We wake and feel too surely
Thy home is far away.

FROM THE GERMAN OF EICHENDORFF.

MOTHER, WHAT IS DEATH?

"MOTHER, how still the baby lies!
I cannot hear his breath;
I cannot see his laughing eyes—
They tell me this is death.

"My little work I thought to bring,
And sat down by his bed,
And pleasantly I tried to sing --
They hushed me - he is dead.

"They say that he again will rise, More beautiful than now;

That God will bless him in the skies O, mother, tell me how!"

“Daughter, do you remember, dear,
The cold, dark thing you brought,
And laid upon the casement here,
A withered worm, you thought?

"I told you

that Almighty power Could break that withered shell, And show you, in a future hour,

Something would please you well.

"Look at the chrysalis, my love, —

An empty shell it lies;

Now raise your wondering glance above, To where yon insect flies!”

"O yes, mamma! how very gay
Its wings of starry gold !
And see! it lightly flies away
Beyond my gentle hold.

"O, mother, now I know full well,
If God that worm can change,
And draw it from this broken cell,
On golden wings to range,

"How beautiful will brother be,

When God shall give him wings,

Above this dying world to flee,
And live with heavenly things!"

CAROLINE GILMAN.

LOVE.

GOD gives us love.

Sometimes to love

He lends us; but when love has grown

To ripeness, that on which it throve

Falls off, and love is left alone.

TENNYSON.

EVA.

DRY thy tears for holy Eva,
With the blessed angels leave her;
Of the form so soft and fair,
Give to earth the tender care.

In the better home of Eva
Let the shining ones receive her,
With the welcome voiced psalm,
Harp of gold and waving palm!

All is light and peace with Eva;
There the darkness cometh never;
Tears are wiped and fetters fall,
And the Lord is all in all.

Weep no more for happy Eva,
Wrong and sin no more shall grieve her,

Care and pain and weariness,

Lost in love so measureless.

Gentle Eva, loving Eva,
Child confessor, true believer,
Listener at the Master's knee,
"Suffer such to come to me."

O for faith like thee, sweet Eva,
Lighting all the solemn river,
And the blessings of the poor,
Wafting to the heavenly shore.

JOHN G. WHITTIER.

HEAVEN.

WHY, day by day, this painful questioning? I know that it is well. I know that there (0 where ?) thou hast protectors, guardians, friends,

If such be needed: angel companies

Move round thee: mighty spirits lead thy thoughts

To founts of knowledge which we never saw.
I know that thou art happy-fresh desire
Springing each day, and each day satisfied!
God's glorious works all open to thy view.
His blessed creatures thine, where pain nor
death

Disturbs not nor divides. All this I know
But O, for one short sight of what I know!

ALFORD.

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