TO-DAY Lydia Avery Coonley Ward W HY fear to-morrow, timid heart? The past is written! Close the book Within the future do not look, But live to-day-to-day. 'Tis this one hour that God has given; And it will make our earth his heaven A Death Song L A DEATH SONG Paul Lawrence Dunbar AY me down beneaf de willers in de grass, Singin', "Sleep, my honey, tek yo' res' at las'. Ust to come an' drink an' sing, An' de chillen waded on dey way to school. Let me settle w'en my shouldahs draps dey load Gwine to soothe my sperrit bes' Ef I's layin' 'mong de t'ings I's allus knowed. G THE TWO ANGELS John Greenleaf Whittier OD called the nearest angels who dwell with Him above: The tenderest one was Pity, the dearest one was Love. "Arise," He said, "my angels, a wail of woe and sin Steals through the gates of heaven, and saddens all within. "My harps take up the mournful strain that from a lost world swells, The smoke of torment clouds the light and blasts the asphodels. "Fly downward to that under world, and on its souls of pain Let Love drop smiles like sunshine, and Pity tears like rain!" Two faces bowed before the Throne, veiled in their golden hair; Four white wings lessened swiftly down the dark abyss of air. The way was strange, the flight was long; at last the angels came Where swung the lost and nether world, red-wrapped in rayless flame. The Two Angels There Pity, shuddering, wept; but Love, with faith too strong for fear, Took heart from God's almightiness and smiled a smile of cheer. And lo! that tear of Pity quenched the flame whereon it fell, And with the sunshine of that smile, hope entered into hell! Two unveiled faces full of joy looked upward to the Throne, Four white wings folded at the feet of Him who sat thereon! And deeper than the sound of seas, more soft than falling flake, Amidst the hush of wing and song the Voice Eternal spake: "Welcome, my angels! ye have brought a holier joy to heaven; Henceforth its sweetest song shall be the song of sin forgiven." LIGHT SHINING OUT OF G William Cowper OD moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; And rides upon the storm! Deep in unfathomable mines He treasures up his bright designs, Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, His purposes will ripen fast, Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan His work in vain: |