For as gold is tried by fire, So a heart must be tried by pain!

I shall know by the gleam and glitter

Of the golden chain you wear, By your heart's calm strength in loving,

Of the fire they have had to bear.

Beat on, true heart, forever; Shine bright, strong golden chain;

And bless the cleansing fire, And the furnace of living pain!

THE VOICE OF THE
WIND.

LET us throw more logs on the fire!

We have need of a cheerful light,

And close round the hearth to gather,

For the wind has risen to-night. With the mournful sound of its wailing

It has checked the children's glee,

And it calls with a louder clamor Than the clamor of the sea. Hark to the voice of the wind!

Let us listen to what it is saying, Let us hearken to where it has been;

It has been on the lonely moorland,

Where the treacherous snow

drift lies,

Where the traveller, spent and weary,

Gasped fainter and fainter

cries;

It has heard the bay of the bloodhounds

On the track of the hunted

slave,

The lash and the curse of the master,

And the groan that the cap

tive gave.

Hark to the voice of

the wind!

It has swept through the gloomy forest,

Where the sledge was urged to its speed,

Where the howling wolves were rushing

And the children are drawing nigher,

For the tales that the wind has told.

So closer and closer gather Round the red and crackling light;

And rejoice (while the wind is blowing)

We are safe and warm tonight.

Hark to the voice of the wind!

TREASURES.

LET me count my treasures,

All my soul holds dear, Given me by dark spirits

Whom I used to fear.

steed.

Where the pool was black and

lonely,

It caught up a splash and a cry, Only the bleak sky heard it,

And the wind as it hurried by. Hark to the voice of the wind!

Then throw more logs on the fire,

Since the air is bleak and cold,

Bright and free from stain!

Doubt, in misty caverns,

'Mid dark horrors sought, Till my peerless jewel,

Faith, to me she brought.

Sorrow, that I wearied

Should remain so long, Wreathed my starry glory, The bright Crown of Song.

Strife, that racked my spirit
Without hope or rest,