HAPPINESS.

DREAM of sweet summer! vision of delight!
Filling with radiance life's unquiet night;
Smiling with sunlit gleam on all below

Of joy which earth can give or heaven bestow.
Spirit of peace, unfold thy golden wings,

To shudder over all created things;

Fling thou the blessing from thine outstretch'd hand
In showers upon the thirsty, sin-stain'd land,

Where many a wanderer, tired and tempest-toss'd,
Starts to a sense of all that he has lost;
Sudden and sharp the arrow onward glides,
And in the wounded, waken'd heart it hides.

Wounded by sin-torn by its deadly force-
Lured by its lies to agonized remorse,
Till far away the happy past appears,
Hidden, it may be, by a storm of tears!
Hidden for ever, seen but in our dreams,
Where all we feel unsatisfying seems,
While sullen, with its sad and gloomy eye,
The shadow of the future passes by.

Youth may be happy; but the touch of care
Has often left its impress even there.
E'en happy childhood's untried trusting heart
To sorrow's sting has learn'd sometimes to start.

Yes! with but few exceptions, over all
The curtain of unhappiness will fall;

But those must suffer most whose wilful choice
Has been to listen to the tempter's voice,—

That syren voice, which with its lovely lies
Has taught the proud their birthright to despise ;
To grasp the fleeting, perishable toys,
Which earth so freely gives and time destroys.

Nothing is stable-nought of earth can last;
All that we care for vanishes so fast;
And slowly, sadly, does conviction come
That we have wander'd far away from home.

Home! in the music of that one sweet word
What wealth of happiness for man is stored!
Home here may be a rest from sin and strife,
But home in heaven is everlasting life.

And all may turn there from destruction's brink,
And into life eternal all may drink;

The reckless sinner on his downward road
May still return in penitence to God.

Yes; it is not too late. Before our eyes

Our loving Lord in love still holds the prize;
His strong, kind voice is speaking still for heaven,
To tell thee, sinner, that thou art forgiven!

No hand can tear thee from His loving breast,
Who bids thee come, in Him to find thy rest;
Pardon'd for Jesus' sake-thy pardon see,
Seal'd in His blood, who freely died for thee.

The Watch-Tower.

I. IN THE VICARAGE.

CONTENTS.

No. I.-AFTER WORK

II. ON THE WATCH-TOWER (with an Illustration)

III. MAY-DAY: by the Rev. I. R. VERNON, M.A.

IV. THE HOLY LAND

V. OUR NAVVIES

VI. THROUGH THE FURNACE.

PAGE

131

146

147

156

. 171

Book the First.-MARTHA'S STORY (with an Illus

tration)

CHAP. V. LAURENCE ANNESLEY'S TRIAL.

VI. THE EVE OF THE WEDDING.

VII. RHYME AND RHYTHM: by MARTIN F. TUPPER

VII. UNDER THE LIMES

XI. D. W.: by MARY BROTHERTON

X. CLASSICAL JOTTINGS. No. I.-MODERNISM

XI. THE LIGHT-BEARERS

The Editors will pay respectful attention to all communications received, and return by post all unaccepted MSS., except poems and short pieces of which copies may be kept. Contributors must not require reasons for rejections, nor can they expect answers to letters, unless under circumstances where special replies are absolutely necessary. The Proprietors will not be responsible for any MSS. that may miscarry or be mislaid. It is desirable in all cases that MS. should contain, on the first page, the name and address of the writer.

LONDON:

PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETORS AT THE OFFICE OF "THE WATCH-TOWER," 158, FLEET STREET; SOLD AT ALL BOOKSELLERS AND RAILWAY BOOKSTALLS.

All rights of Translation and Reproduction are reserved.