All's Well

T

ALL'S WELL

Harriet McEwen Kimball

HE day is ended! Ere I sink to sleep,
My weary spirit seeks repose in Thine.
Father, forgive my trespasses, and keep
This little life of mine.

With loving kindness curtain Thou my bed,
And cool in rest my burning pilgrim feet;
Thy pardon be the pillow for my head;
So, shall my sleep be sweet.

At peace with all the world, dear Lord, and Thee, No fears my soul's unwavering faith can shake; All's well, whichever side the grave for me

The morning light may break.

ROCK ME TO SLEEP

Elizabeth Akers Allen

B

ACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,

Make me a child again just for to-night! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore; Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep; Rock me to sleep, mother, -rock me to sleep!

Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears,-

Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;-
Rock me to sleep, mother, -rock me to sleep!

Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:

Rock Me to Sleep

Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I to-night for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;-
Rock me to sleep, mother, -rock me to sleep!

Over my heart in the days that are flown,
No love like the mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,—
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours.
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;
Rock me to sleep, mother, -rock me to sleep!

Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead to-night,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, -rock me to sleep!

Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:

Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream.

Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, With your light lashes just sweeping my face, Never hereafter to wake or to weep;

Rock me to sleep, mother, -rock me to sleep!

O Sacred Head

O SACRED HEAD

St. Bernard. Translated by H. W. Baker

SACRED Head surrounded

By crown of piercing thorn!
O bleeding Head, so wounded,

Reviled and put to scorn!

Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee,

The glow of life decays,

Yet angel hosts adore Thee,
And tremble as they gaze.

I see Thee, strength and vigor
All fading in the strife,
And death with cruel rigor
Bereaving Thee of life;

O agony and dying!

O love to sinners free!
Jesus, all grace supplying,
Oh, turn Thy face on me.

In this, Thy bitter passion,
Good Shepherd, think of me

With Thy most sweet compassion,
Unworthy though I be: