E'en now, methought I heard
Low tones whose music long ago did cheer me,
That shadowy hands the parting branches stirred
'Twas but the night wind's mournful sigh above me,--
'Twas but the lonely streamlet's grieving tone,
No voice comes back from those who once did love me,--
No white hand beckons--I am all alone!
Alone?--not so! One sacred, unseen Presence
Fills the far depths, broods round me and above,
Enfolding all in His own Omnipresence,
Pervading all with His unstinted love,
In Him I live, and move, and have my being,
My soul's deep yearnings all to Him are known,
On me in kindness rests His eye all seeing,
His arm upholds me,--I am not alone!
MARY
Thus early with the dead--
Thou of the young, fair brow, the laughing eye,
The light and joyous tread,--
Mary, we little thought thou would'st be first to die!
A little while ago
We saw thee first in girlhood's early bloom;
Now thou art lying low,
Thy pale hands crossed in slumber, silent in the tomb!
Ah me! 'tis hard to speak
Of thee as of the dead--the pale, still dead!--
'Tis hard to think the b'eak,
Stern blast of winter sweeps above thy low, cold bed!
* * * * *
Thus early with thy God!
'Twas a rich boon He sent whose loving voice
Called thee to His abode,
'Mid the sweet bowers of Heaven forever to rejoice!
Mary! thy feet have passed
The silent valley;--on thy placid brow
Heaven's sunlight falls at last,--
Thou'rt with God's shining ones--thyself an angel now!
Thank God! the dreary tomb
Has lost its sting! The Saviour broke death's reign,
Clothing with fadeless bloom
Frail human dust! In Heaven, Mary, we'll meet again!
"I AM DOING NO GOOD!"
"I am doing no good!" said a little rill,
As it rippled along at the foot of a hill,
"I am doing no good with my babbling here,
No one is listening,--no one is near!"
"'No good!--no good!'" said a violet blue,
As it shook from its petals the sparkling dew,
And opened its wondering, azure eyes
To the soft, clear light of the morning skies.
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