ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. "There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech, "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove; Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. "One morn I miss'd him on the accustom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favorite tree; Another came, nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he: "The next, with dirges due, in sad array, 59 Slow throngh the churchway-path we saw him borne. Approach, and read (for thou canst read) the lay THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere; He gave to misery all he had a tear; He gain'd from Heaven-'twas all he wish'd—a friend. No further seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, SOMETIME. MRS. MAY RILEY SMITH. Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned, The things which our weak judgment here had spur::ed, As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue; And we shall see how all God's plans were right, And we shall see how, while we frown and sigh, And even as prudent parents disallow Too much of sweet to craving babyhood, And if, sometimes, commingled with life's wine, Pours out this portion for our lips to drink. Oh, do not blame the loving Father so. But wear your sorrow with obedient grace. And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath And stand within and all God's working see, But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart! God's plans, like lilies, pure and white, unfold; We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart, Time will reveal the calyxes of gold. And if, through patient toil, we reach the land Where tired feet, with sandals loose, may rest, When we shall clearly know and understand— I think that we will say, "God knew the best!" REST. [The following lines were found under the pillow of a soldier lying dead in a hospital near Port Royal, South Carolina. We have never, we believe, seen verses more true and touching. They are a new and perfect expression of world-wide feeling:] I lay me down to sleep, with little thought of care, A bowing, burdened head, that only asks to rest, My good right hand forgets its cunning now; I am not eager, bold, nor strong all that is past, My half day's work is done, and this is all my part: And grasp his banner still, though all its blue be dim. |