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We may find it in the winter boughs, as they cross the cold blue sky:
While soft on icy pool and stream their pencill'd shadows lie,
When we look upon their tracery, by the fairy frost-work bound,
Whence the flitting redbreast shakes a shower of crystals to the ground.
Yes! beauty dwells in all our paths; but sorrow, too, is there:
How oft some cloud within us dims the bright, still summer air!
When we carry our sick hearts abroad amidst the joyous things,
That through the leafy places glance on manycolour'd wings!
With shadows from the past we fill the happy woodland shades,
And a mournful memory of the dead is with us in the glades;
And our dream-like fancies lend the wind an echo's plaintive tone
Of voices, and of melodies, and of silvery laughter gone.
But are we free to do ev'n thus-to wander as we
Bearing sad visions through the grove, and o'er the breezy hill?
No! in our daily paths lie cares, that ofttimes bind us fast,
While from their narrow round we see the golden day fleet past.
They hold us from the woodlark's haunts, and violet dingle's back,
And from all the lovely sounds and gleams in the shining river's track;
They bar us from our heritage of spring-time, hope, and mirth,
And weigh our burden'd spirits down with the cumbering dust of earth.
Yet should this be? Too much, too soon, despondingly we yield.
A better lesson we are taught by the lilies of the field:
A sweeter by the birds of heaven, which tell us in their flight,
Of One that through the desert air for ever guides them right.
Shall not this knowledge calm our hearts, and bid vain conflicts cease?
Ay, when they commune with themselves in holy hours of peace;
And feel that by the lights and clouds through which our pathway lies,
By the beauty and the grief alike, we are training for the skies!
THOU gentlest teacher of unwelcome truths,
The litter'd garden strew'd with wither'd leaves,
Half sad, half cheerful, and this breathless calm,
All speak thy monitory reign begun ;
Till, through false optics view'd, the future seems
MRS. W. HEY.
"AS THY DAYS, SO SHALL THY STRENGTH BE."
WHEN adverse winds and waves arise,
1 Deuteronomy, xxxiii. 25. "God will wisely proportion the graces and comforts" of his servants "for the services he calls them out to. Have they work appointed to them? They shall have strength to do it. Have they burdens appointed them? They shall have strength to bear them; and never be tempted above that they are able. Faithful is he that has thus promised, and hath caused us to hope in this promise."MATTHEW HENRY.
When life her throng of care reveals,
That, as my day, my strength shall be."
When with sad footstep memory roves
One trial more must yet be past,
That, "as her day, her strength shall be."
WORMS AND FLOWERS.
YOU'RE spinning for my lady, worm!
When air is bright with sunbeams,
From woody vales and mountain streams
You're spinning for my lady, flower!
You're training for my love,
The glory of her summer-bower,
While skylarks soar above:
Go, twine her locks with rose-buds,
But, oh! there is another worm
Yet from that sepulchre shall spring
Frail emblems of frail beauty ye!
To shine in amaranthine bloom,
Fast by the throne of God.
THE GENIUS OF DEATH.
WHAT is death?'Tis to be free!
Wraps lord and slave;
Nor pride nor poverty dares come