Deaf to the claim of God, Or kindly human heart; Voices of earth and heaven

Call, but they turn away, And Love, through such black night

Can see no hope of day;

And yet

-our eyes are dim,
And thine are keener far:
Then gaze till thou canst see
The glimmer of some star.

The black stream flows along
Whose waters we despise,
Show us reflected there

Some fragment of the skies;
'Neath tangled thorns and briers,
(The task is fit for thee,)
Seek for the hidden flowers,
We are too blind to see;
Then will I thy great gift
A crown and blessing call;
Angels look thus on men,
And God sees good in all!

A FIRST SORROW.

ARISE! this day shall shine, Forevermore,

To thee a star divine,

On Time's dark shore.

Till now thy soul has been

All glad and gay:

Bid it awake, and look
At grief to-day!

No shade has come between

Thee and the sun;

Like some long childish dream
Thy life has run :

But now the stream has reached
A dark, deep sea,
And Sorrow, dim and crowned,
Is waiting thee.

Each of God's soldiers bears
A sword divine:
Stretch out thy trembling hands
To-day for thine!

To each anointed Priest

God's summons came:
O Soul, he speaks to-day,
And calls thy name.

Then, with slow reverent step,
And beating heart,
From out thy joyous days

Thou must depart.

Why turn each cool gray shadow

Into a world of fears?
Why say the winds are wailing?
Why call the dew-drops tears?

The voices of happy nature,
And the Heaven's sunny
gleam,
Reprove thy sick heart's fancies,
Upbraid thy foolish dream.

Listen, and I will tell thee

The song Creation sings, From the humming of bees in the heather,

To the flutter of angels' wings.

An echo rings forever,

The sound can never cease; It speaks to God of glory,

It speaks to Earth of peace.

Not alone did angels sing it

To the poor shepherds' ear; But the spheréd Heavens chant it,

While listening ages hear.

Above thy peevish wailing

Rises that holy song; Above Earth's foolish clamor, Above the voice of wrong.

No creature of God's too lowly

To murmur peace and praise: When the starry nights grow silent,

Then speak the sunny days.

So leave thy sick heart's fancies,

And lend thy little voice To the silver song of glory

That bids the world rejoice.

GIVE.

SEE the rivers flowing

Downwards to the sea, Pouring all their treasures Bountiful and free: Yet to help their giving Hidden springs arise; Or, if need be, showers Feed them from the skies\

Watch the princely flowers Their rich fragrance spread, Load the air with perfumes,

From their beauty shed: Yet their lavish spending

Leaves them not in dearth, With fresh life replenished

By their mother earth!

Give thy heart's best treasures,
From fair Nature learn;
Give thy love—and ask not,
Wait not a return!
And the more thou spendest

From thy little store,
With a double bounty,
God will give thee more.

MY JOURNAL.

Ir is a dreary evening;

The shadows rise and fall: With strange and ghostly changes,

They flicker on the wall.

Make the charred logs burn brighter;

I will show you, by their blaze,