Thick clustering orbs, and this our fair domain, The tall, dark mountains, and the deep-toned seas, Join in this solemn, universal song.

O, listen ye, our spirits; drink it in

From all the air! 'Tis in the gentle moonlight;

'Tis floating in day's setting glories; Night,

Wrapt in her sable robe, with silent step,

Comes to our bed and breathes it in our ears:

Night, and the dawn, bright day, and thoughtful eve,

All time, all bounds, the limitless expanse,

As one vast mystic instrument, are touched

By an unseen, living Hand; the conscious chords

Quiver with joy in this great jubilee;

The dying hear it, and as sounds of earth

Grow dull and distant, wake their passing souls
To mingle in this heavenly harmony.

A Deathbed

H'

A DEATHBED

James Aldrich

ER suffering ended with the day,

Yet lived she at its close,

And breathed the long, long night away
In statue-like repose.

But when the sun in all his state

Illumed the eastern skies,

She passed through Glory's morning gate

And walked in Paradise!

A PSALM OF LIFE

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(What the heart of the young man said to the

psalmist.)

ELL me not in mournful numbers,

T

Life is but an empty dream!—

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long and time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

A Psalm of Life

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act,-act in the living Present!

Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor and to wait.

HR

SOMEWHERE

Julia C. R. Dorr

OW can I cease to pray for thee? Somewhere

In God's great universe thou art to-day. Can He not reach thee with His tender

care?

Can He not hear me when for thee I pray?

What matters it to Him who holds within

The hollow of His hand all worlds, all space, That thou art done with earthly pain and sin? Somewhere within His ken thou hast a place!

Somewhere thou livest, and hast need of Him;
Somewhere thy soul sees higher heights to climb;
And somewhere, still, there may be valleys dim
That thou must pass to reach the hills sublime.

Then all the more, because thou canst not hear
Poor, human words of blessing, will I pray,
Oh, true, brave heart, God bless thee, wheresoe'er
In His great universe thou art to-day.