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ONLY

By courtesy of Ladies’ World, New York CityIt was only a gleam of sunshineAfter a day of gloom,Yet it brought it’s warmth and blessingTo a dreary, darkened room.It was only a strain of musicWafted upon the air,Yet a heart caught up it’s meaning,Till Peace was a sovereign there.It was only a smile of welcomeAnd a loving clasp of the hand,Yet it made the world an EdenTo one who could understand.It was only a word, low spoken,To a spirit burden cast,Yet the angels sang: “Good tidings,”For it saved a soul at last.

THE HOLY DREAM

His reverend head was bowed upon his hands;When in the lamp-light, thro’ his study door,Sleep’s angel came, who wisely understandsHow burdened hearts can be revived once more.The day, with all it’s quiet hours, was past;The sermon, that his weary brain prepared,Had, with a hopeful heart, been preached at last,And yet it seemed that not one listener cared.Life’s crosses looked too great for him to bear,And Hope was crushed beneath his spirit’s weight;His soul, at last, had yielded to despairAnd prayed for freedom, ere it was too late.The answer came, but not as he had prayed,—Life conquered death and sleep had mastered all;Like some fond mother gently now she stayedTo soothe, and bless, and wake him at her call.Sleeping he dreamed that, on her heavenly way,The angel Death had listened to his prayer,And led him upward to the endless day,Beyond the valley known as Heart’s Despair.Above, the gates of Heaven were swinging wide,And he beheld the City of the King;His angel friends were standing close beside,Who, near the throne, the songs of Zion sing;And, as he looked, a chariot of goldWas passing o’er the pavement pearly-laid;A gleam of heavenly light he could beholdWhose radiance warmed his soul and with him stayed.“Who passes?” cried he; “Tell his honored name,And whither will the golden chariot go?”“To all the world,” the answer sweetly came;—“’Tis Christ, the King of Heaven and earth below.”Then, in the brightness of that blessed light,He followed on, with never-tiring speed;The chariot wheels he ever kept in sight,—For strength was given, in the hour of need.The chariot stopped, beside a crystal stream,And Christ, descending, loosed the reins of gold;Then, gazing downward past the heavenly gleam,“Here lies the earth,” said he; “Come and behold!”The follower came, as comes the wandering dove,When seeking shelter from the storms of night;And as he looked from that great height above,He saw below a strange and sickening sight;—The earth was there, like some great marshy tract,With crowds, like blind men, wandering to and fro;Some struggling upward, others falling back,And crying out: “We know not where to go!”He saw among them many of his ownTo whom he preached the word of God each year;There stood the little chapel, built of stone,Where once he grieved, because some would not hear.The darkness came; he heard their piteous cry,—Weeping and moaning sounded thro’ the air,As, one by one, they lost “the way” near byAnd souls were yielding to a death’s despair.He saw it all as never seen before,—His eyes were opened, now he could not stay;Standing with Christ his spirit did implore:—“O send me back that I may point the way!”Dreaming, he woke; the lamp was burning dim,—The moon-beams thro’ the casement softly crept;A revelation had been made to himWhich changed his heart, the while he sweetly slept.Despair departed, love for life-work came;The holy dream had made the man more wise.He knelt to breathe a prayer in Jesus’ name,While angels sang in peaceful Paradise.

HARMONY AND HEAVEN

Our souls are made of harmonyTo sing and live forever;For Harmony and Heaven are oneWhere discord soundeth never.

THE DANDELION

One day, in spring, I took a walkAnd spied, within a field of green,A slender dandelion stock,Upon whose top a flower was seen.Soon after, passing by the place,I noticed that the flower of gold,Whose stiffened stalk had lost it’s grace,Was turning gray and growing old.To-day, upon the self same ground,I see a stalk undecked and spare;The flower that once was golden-crowned,Has lost it’s gray—it’s head is bare.How like a child is this gay flower,With golden hair and graceful mien,Which comes to brighten many an hourAnd add a charm to dullest scene!But soon the golden turns to grayAnd middle life comes on apace;The gray then hurries on its way,And old age comes to take it’s place.

LIVES AND LEAVES

Our lives are like the leavesThat waken to the sun;Some fall from airy heightsEre Youth has scarce begun;And some are tempest tost,By an opposing power,And driven blindly onWith every passing hour.Some cling to their support,In darkness and in light,And grow from day to dayMore perfect, strong, and bright.God grant that lives and leaves,When sunny days are past,May find, from adverse winds,A resting-place at last.

TO-DAY

’Tis not so hard to do what God desires,If, while we trust and labor on and pray,We look not back upon a Past decried,Nor forward to a Future yet untried,But do what Conscience prompts and soul requires,And live within the hours which make to-day.The Past is gone. The failure and the wrongWe cannot expiate by vain regret;Forgiven have they been, and if to-dayWe wish to live more nearly as we pray,We must awake a grander, sweeter songWithin those hours which have been given yet.While pondering o’er the failures of the then,We make a failure of the now and here;For life to-day shall lose it’s sunshine brightIf it recalls the shadows of last night.While past mistakes possess the minds of menThe heart itself will have no power to cheer.To-day we breathe, we move, we speak, we live,To-morrow’s sun for us may never rise.All that we do, or hope to do, or say,Must be confined within our short to-day,And all the blessings that our life can giveMust be out-poured before the daylight dies.As we shall hope for nobler, higher things,While up life’s mount we seek the Heavenly wayWe must not measure, lest we may despair,The height to be yet gained by work and prayer;But like the lark, who soars and yet who sings,Make most of time God gives in our to-day.If future plans awaken thought and mind,And we shall say:—“Some day, some hour, not yet,”We rob the now of that divine rewardWhich follows duty, given us by God,And in to-day no pleasure shall we find;And thus to-day becomes a past regret.There falls upon us yet the morning light,And if to-day we gladly do our best,Our life itself will be most pure and sweet,For the to-days make up the life complete.The “little things” are pleasing in God’s sight,And humble duties nobly done bring rest.Then, Soul, awaken from thy drowsy sleep!Dream not of past nor yet of future days,But rouse thyself to-day to grander things.The smile, the word, the loving deed take wingsTo bear thy soul and others up the steep,Where Life Eternal sings its endless praise.

DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT

When shadows fall, and earth is gray,Life seems less grand, the heart less gay;The things that vexed in morning light,Have grown to sorrows in the night.When morning dawns, and earth is bright,Life seems so grand, the heart so gay,That Sorrows, nursed all thro’ the night,Wakened by Wisdom, fly away.

WITHIN THE GATES

Live not for self,But live for God;Expect on earthNo great reward.When life is o’er,Thy Self shall standWithin the gatesOf Promised Land.

OVER-SIGHT

Earth is not filled with sunshine bright—The rain-drops sometimes fall;And buds that might have seen the lightMay blight at tempest’s call.Life is not filled with sunshine bright—The tear-drops sometimes fall;And hopes that might have seen the lightMay blight at sorrow’s call.But God, who sends the rain and tearsAnd knows what things are best,Will also send the faith that cheersAnd guides us to our rest.

GOING HOME

“I am going home,” she whispered,—“Home to mamma and the rest;So I’ll put away my playthings,For I think that home is best.Mamma will be there to meet me,And I’ll sit on papa’s knee;All the others will be waitingWith a kiss for little me.Look! it’s getting dark already,But there’s nothing much to fear,For it only takes a minute,—Home, you know, is very near.”So she put away her playthings,While they smoothed her golden curls,And she sweetly smiled in partingTo the little boys and girls.“I am going Home,” she whispered,—“Home to Jesus and to rest;So I’ll put away my burdens,For I think that Home is best.Loved ones will be there to greet me,I shall see and know them all;There will be a glorious welcomeFor the little me grown tall.Look! the night is quickly coming,But there’s nothing I can fear,For it only takes a moment,—Home, you know, is very near.”So she put away life’s burdens,While they smoothed her silvery hair,And she sweetly smiled in partingFor she found her Saviour there.

THE GARDENER

He who shall sow the little seeds,Must wait for them to grow;Some day when he a solace needsThe pure, sweet flowers will blow.When wintry storms their peace shall take,And they are lost from sight,These little seeds once more will wake,To Heaven’s eternal light.

AT YORK

The moon-light falls upon the sea,And leaves a path of glory;The waves creep high upon the shore,And roll the shining pebbles o’er;Then, running back in noisy playTo meet the ever-dashing spray,Like loyal lovers, gay and free,Repeat the same sweet story.The light-house, on the lonely isle,Where shadows now are creeping,Like sentinel, so true and brave,Stands forth to stay each coming wave;In raging storm as well as calmThis stalwart giant fears no harm,And thro’ the night keeps watch the whileThe fisher folk are sleeping.A little boat now comes to view,And, in the path of splendor,It seems to drift with idle oar,To distant moon and unknown shore,—Till human vision, at its best,Can scarce discern, on ocean’s crest,That tiny speck that rocks the twoTo love dreams new and tender.The stars are peeping from the blue,The “milky way” revealing;A row of houses, on the sand,Like line of fronted soldiers stand;How dimly, thro’ the deepening night,The cottage candle throws its light,While breezes blow the curtains through—A glimpse of home life stealing!Some faint reflections on the deepAnd to wet sands are creeping;While, from the light within the towerWhose steady glare reveals its power,A path of red on land and sea,Where waves make sweetest melody,Reflects and soothes the mermaid’s sleepIts hourly night watch keeping.O beauteous evening! Peace above,O’er sea and shore is falling;On such a calm and glorious nightThe human heart is nearer right;God seems so great, and Heaven so fair,That man and earth can not compare;On night like this, the souls that loveAre roused to higher calling.

PEACE

When we ask the reason why,And we question: “Is it right?”When we search for hidden truths,Praying for the needed light;When our way looks long and lone,And the sky seems dark o’erhead;When our blessings all are gone,And the sorrows come instead;Then, like sunlight thro’ the gloom,Comes the peace for which we prayed:—“Let not your heart be troubled,Neither let it be afraid.”

SHE SLEEPS

“She sleeps,” they said;With noiseless treadThey pass their way;She will awake,At morning break,In endless day.“She sleeps,” they said;Some tears are shedFrom loving eyes;To-day she sings,With King of kings,In Paradise.One stands apart,With breaking heart,From all the rest;His grief appearsToo great for tears,—To weep were best.“She sleeps,” they saidAround her headThe sunbeams play;When all are goneOne lingers longWho wills to stay.He calls her nameAnd loves the sameAs when in life;With paling cheekHe bids her speak,—His promised wife.Alone are they;What can he sayThat she may hear?He takes her hand,—She’ll understandWhen he is near.He sees the smileAnd waits awhileWith bated breath;But lips speak notHer loving thought,Whose seal is death.Around her face,In girlish grace,Falls silken hair;Her dear eyes closeYet well he knowsThe soul light there.His own is she;On bended kneeOnce more he prays:—“Dear Father give,While I shall live,Strength for my days;Help me to beAs pure as she;And then at lastUnite us twoIn Heaven, with You,When life is past.”

AFFLUENCE

If you want both fame and moneyYou will do just as you can;If you do not care for eitherYou can do just as you will;And, among the moving masses,He will be the wisest manWho adopts these words of counselThat shall help him up life’s hill.If you wish to be to-morrowWhat you cannot be to-day,You must make the most of momentsWhile to-day is passing by;If you would do in the futureWhat you really wish and pray,Do at present what you can doAnd be happy while you try.Should you lose both fame and moneyYou will prosper all the more,—For you’ll have an educationThat shall loose you from your chainsAnd enable you to masterWhat you could not learn before,—How to utilize resourcesAnd rely upon your brains.

CHRIST DIVINE

Never can I forget Thee, Christ divine,Never grow weary of this love of Thine,Never deny Thee, from Thee turn away,Nor cease to love Thee every passing day.When storms of life are threatening very near,Thy voice, dear Saviour, let me ever hear;And when my sky is very clear and brightBe Thou my sun, my never-failing light.While I shall live, be Thou a life for me,And when I die, my resurrection be.When I shall enter Heavenly mansions fair,Be Thou the first to meet and greet me there.While, thro’ the endless years of which I dream,I touch the golden harp, be Thou my theme,On earth, in Heaven, forevermore be mine,—My first, my last, my only Christ divine.

IN AFTER YEARS

Out in the grassy meadow,As the light begins to fade,To-day I sit in shadow,Where in childhood hours I played.The old stone, ’neath the maple,The brooklet, beside the wall,Are just as dear as everTo this little girl grown tall.The tinkle of bell, in pasture,The glow of the sunset light,Bring back those other twilightsWhen I drove the cows at night.The whip-poor-will’s loud singing,In his leafy bower on high,Recalls the times I answeredAnd my echo made reply.I hear another calling,In the branches overhead,For years they have been manyAnd the young must sing instead.Adown the little pathwayThat leads to pasture bars,I see the grasses growing,Where the footprints numbered stars.In place of dear old homesteadIs ruin and heap of stone;And tears are dimming vision,As I think and gaze alone.The same old tree is standing,Where it towered years before,With branches reaching outward,To the low-eaved porch and door.A hush is stealing o’er me,Like the quiet of the night;I can but breathe a blessingFor the dear ones gone from sight.Tho’ feeble steps are silenced,And the smiles no more I see,Yet there, where Home remaineth,They will wait to welcome me.Alone! and yet in dreamingI can live and love once moreThe days of happy childhood,In the sunshine gone before.And tho’ my light is fadingAnd the night must come I know,Yet the sunbeams will be stealingThro’ the rifts of long ago.

FAITH

Faith is needed every day,—Faith to work and faith to pray;Faith to learn and faith to teach,Faith to practice, faith to preach;Faith to love and faith to charm,Faith to quicken, faith to calm;Faith to bless and faith to chide,Faith to follow, faith to guide;Faith to prove and faith to know,Faith to stay and faith to go;Faith to urge and faith to keep,Faith to waken, faith to sleep;Faith to do and faith to dare,Faith to bear and faith to share;Faith to bind and faith to break,Faith to give and faith to take;Faith to stand and faith to yield,Faith to heal, faith to be healed,Faith to pardon, faith to seek,Faith to listen, faith to speak;Faith to wait and faith to try,Faith to live and faith to die.

UNITED EFFORT

Working unaided, striving alone,Effort is fruitless and triumph unknown;Single endeavor, battling with sin,Loses the laurels union can win.Working together, trusting in God,Effort united will merit reward;Pledging allegiance triumph is sure,Union is mighty, strength will endure.Under our motto forces unite,Fearless and loyal they pledge for the Right.Onward to victory, summon the rest!Christ is our Leader, Union is best.

MY SOUL

My soul is filled with musicLike the music of the sea;And it takes both storm and sunshineTo awake it’s melody.My soul is often tempted,But from God it ne’er can partWhile the heavens shall bend above meAnd the Muses touch my heart.

THE TEXT

The song may be the sweetest,And the story be the best,The sermon most effectual,And the poem well expressed;But the text, it’s inspiration,That the mind retains when heard,May be a line at longestOr perhaps a single word.

ETHEL

[In Memoriam.]Before the little feet had weary grownWith toiling up life’s path from day to day,The Master sent an angel from His homeTo show our baby girl the nearer way.Before the tiny hands were clasped in prayer,To ask of Him—as often seemeth best—To lighten burdens sometimes hard to bear,Those hands were folded in eternal rest.Before the baby eyes, so blue and bright,Had o’er life’s lessons oft’ been known to weep,The Saviour filled them with a Heavenly light,And closed them, for a little while, in sleep.Before the little heart could know a sadness,Such as is ours who wait with falling tears,He stilled its pulsing—hushed it into gladness—No griefs to bear thro’ all the coming years.Before the baby soul had known a wrong,Or tempted been by sins earth below,’Twas winged to Heaven, by angels’ sweetest song,Pure and unspotted as the drifted snow.Home to our Master in that Land above,Never to know a heart-ache nor a care;Would we recall her, whom we truly love,To earthly home from Home Eternal there?Home to our Father in that Land of Light,Where angels guard her while we watch and pray,Where we shall meet her if we live aright,—For Home with Jesus is not far away;And when, some day, we hear our Saviour’s voice,We’ll breathe to Him above a thankful prayer,And hearts, once filled with sorrow, will rejoiceThat those we love are waiting for us there;And when Heaven’s gracious gate is opened wideTo show, to gladdened souls, Eternal Day,A child, with sunny hair, will stand beside,To sing a welcome and to lead the way.Not long we wait,—our baby goes before,Spared from the sorrows which life here doth give,—Happy with Jesus on that Heavenly Shore,Where those He loves forevermore may live.Thro’ patient toil we’ll reach that Better LandWhere now our darling finds her sweetest rest,And then I think that we shall understand,—And say, with happy hearts, that God knows best.

LOVE’S ROSES

When love ’woke from slumber,At the dawn of day,Roses without numberBloomed upon his way;But when noonday splendorWith her sunlight stayed,Roses, young and tender,Soon began to fade.When the night winds sighing’Round Love’s portals play,Rose leaves, crushed and dying,Soon will blow away.

INFLUENCE

The whole vast pyramid, Humanity,Is built on Influence, an unseen power,Whose great foundation stone is laid at start,Upon which rises day by day a part;Until the whole, imperfect though complete,Awaits the Judge at close of life’s brief hour.Like swallows who have found a summer sun,And frozen buds which wake to springtime light,So starved Humanity, which seeks awhileThe warmth and light of earth’s most friendly smile,Bursts into fuller life and glories newBy strength of influence daily used aright.As song of bird invites to melodySome other soaring songster of the air,Until a chorus, wakened far and near,Fills quiet hour with music and with cheer,So playful Zephyr may Æolus wakeTo scatter clouds and make the earth more fair.As raindrop falling to a fainting fieldMay summon forth a sweet, refreshing shower,So little words may speed on loving wings,Till earth awakes and all the glad world sings;Till fainting hearts revive and souls are saved,By needed influence of cheer and power.If life with Socrates could make man wise,If Aristides could make mortal just,Then life with Christ can make a Christlike man,Who lives, reflecting Christ, as best he can;Whose nature is o’ertaken, sanctified,Whose influence ensures a sacred trust.The spell of Christ-life, deepening o’er the soul,Refines and softens conduct, speech, and mind;And what men think, and feel, and do, and say,Will make the earth less hopeful or more gay,—Will show a daring demon to the world,Or prove the loving God to mortal-kind.

LIFT UP THY HEART

Lift up thy heart,The day is bright,There is no need of sighing;Do well thy part,Ere falls the night,Be happy in the trying.Fear not the way,God knows it all,His love is ever guiding;Be true to-day,And hear His call,In faith and works abiding.Look not before,Nor yet behind,The present is thy blessing;Doubt Him no more,But gladness find,His gracious gifts confessing.Lift up thy heart,And like a KingRule o’er it, faithless never;Do well thy part,Till earth shall sing,And Heaven be thine forever.

TWO PATHS

When eastern skies are bathed in mists of gray,And all the heralds of the night are gone,I watch two shadows, moving o’er the way,Beyond the dim, uncertain light of morn.Adown the years they come, like fleeting dreams,—No sound disturbs the hush of daylight fair,Save song of bird, or many murmuring streams,Like sweetest music filling all the air.Near, and yet nearer, till each sunlight rayReveals no shadows, as they onward glide,But two young friends, upon life’s unknown way,Eager to journey o’er a path untried.Youth knows no fear; the day is near at handAnd Mother Earth breathes forth a welcome sweet;Thus do they wander o’er the sun-lit landUntil they come to where the two paths meet.They pause a moment, in their eager flight,Uncertain which to take upon the way;But choose the path now filled with morning lightWhere flowers bloom and gentle zephyrs play.Now Pleasure points the way to paths unknown,The prospect brightens, as new scenes appear;—The world invites them,—they are not alone,But join a moving throng, who know no fear.To one, a still voice comes,—a breath, a prayer,Breathed by a brother, in life’s changing day;And, gazing up, he leaves the valley fairTo seek that other path,—the surer way.He climbs the height; the vale beneath him lies,And angels guide his faltering steps aright;To gain the summit manfully he tries,—Above he sees the day’s eternal light;But looking downward, to the valley fair,Where, in youth’s morn, his weary feet have trod,He sees his fellow traveler lingering thereAnd, in his strength, he leads him up to God.Happy is he who finds the heavenly wayAnd lends to doubting souls a helping hand;God’s light directs him, step by step, each day,—God’s glory waits him in the Promised Land.

STEADFASTNESS

We never know what we can do,Until we try;He who accomplishes the least,Stands idly by;While he who makes the most of life,Keeps plodding on,And earns at least his perfect restWhen strength is gone.We never know what we can do,Until we dare;He who would gain the victor’s place,Must not despair;For tho’ life’s burdens seem too great,The way too long,He will succeed who conquers doubtBy prayer and song.

VOLUME ONE

How beautiful is youth that grandly gleamsWith bright illusions and aspiring dreams!Book of beginnings, such as Fiction paints,With model heroines and hero saints.Each precious page with expectation teems,Filling the mind as rain-drops fill the streams;Sweet and refreshing as the summer showerAnd adding charms to every passing hour.Each coming chapter with a new hope beams,But how ’twill end the wisest little dreams;And when, at last, the book of Youth is doneA less romantic sequel is begun.

HAPPINESS-KILLERS

We are crossing little bridgesThat we never reach at all;We are climbing mighty mountainsThat are not upon our way;We are looking for a twilightWhile the morning sunbeams fall,And the troubled thoughts of futureTake the gladness from to-day.We are losing Nature’s glories,Which are meant for us to see;We are finding weeds and grassesWhere the pretty flowers grow;We are looking for the storm cloudsWhich perchance may never be,And we quite forget the sunshineWhich to-day is ours below.We are filling life’s brief seasonFull of worry and regret,And the thoughts of past and futureRob the present of its best;And the happiness of othersWe perchance do oft forget.Past regret and future worryBanish peace and conquer rest.Life is ours! The day is passing,And the Present is our all;Past has gone, and future comethIn the moments one by one.If to-day we do our duty,Love the Saviour, hear His call,Earth will bless and Heaven receive us,And His words will be: “Well done.”