It has smiled on my successes,
Raised me when my hopes were low,
And by turns has looked upon me
With all the loving eyes I know.

Do you wonder that my picture
Has become so like a friend?.
It has seen my life's beginnings,
It shall stay and cheer the end!

JUDGE NOT.

JUDGE not; the workings of his brain And of his heart thou canst not see; What looks to thy dim eyes a stain, In God's pure light may only be A scar, brought from some well-won field, Where thou wouldst only faint and yield.

The look, the air, that frets thy sight,
May be a token, that below

The soul has closed in deadly fight

With some infernal fiery foe,

Whose glance would scorch thy smiling grace, And cast thee shuddering on thy face!

The fall thou darest to despise -
May be the angel's slackened hand
Has suffered it, that he may rise
And take a firmer, surer stand;
Or, trusting less to earthly things,
May henceforth learn to use his wings.

And judge none lost; but wait and see,
With hopeful pity, not disdain ;
The depth of the abyss may be

The measure of the height of pain
And love and glory that may raise
This soul to God in after days!

FRIEND SORROW.

not cheat thy Heart and tell her, "Grief will pass away, Hope for fairer times in future, And forget to-day.".

Tell her, if you will, that sorrow

Need not come in vain;

Tell her that the lesson taught her
Far outweighs the pain.

Cheat her not with the old comfort,
"Soon she will forget,"

Bitter truth, alas! but matter

Rather for regret;

Bid her not "Seek other pleasures,
Turn to other things": -

Rather nurse her cagèd sorrow

Till the captive sings.

Rather bid her go forth bravely,

And the stranger greet;

Not as foe, with spear and buckler,
But as dear friends meet;

Bid her with a strong clasp hold her,
By her dusky wings,

Listening for the murmured blessing
Sorrow always brings.

ONE BY ONE.

NE by one the sands are flowing,
One by one the moments fall;
Some are coming, some are going;
Do not strive to grasp them all.

One by one thy duties wait thee,
Let thy whole strength go to each,
Let no future dreams elate thee,

Learn thou first what these can teach.

One by one (bright gifts from Heaven)
Joys are sent thee here below;
Take them readily when given,
Ready too to let them go.

One by one thy griefs shall meet thee,
Do not fear an armèd band;
One will fade as others greet thee;
Shadows passing through the land.

Do not look at life's long sorrow;
See how small cach moment's pain,
God will help thee for to-morrow,
So each day begin again.

Every hour that fleets so slowly
Has its task to do or bear;
Luminous the crown, and holy,
When each gem is set with care.

Do not linger with regretting,
Or for passing hours despond;
Nor, the daily toil forgetting,
Look too eagerly beyond.

Hours are golden links, God's token,
Reaching heaven; but one by one
Take them, lest the chain be broken
Ere the pilgrimage be done.

TRUE HONORS.

S my darling tired already,
Tired of her day of play?
Draw your little stool beside me,
Smooth this tangled hair away.

Can she put the logs together,
Till they make a cheerful blaze?
Shall her blind old Uncle tell her
Something of his youthful days?

Hark! The wind among the cedars
Waves their white arms to and fro;
I remember how I watched them
Sixty Christmas Days ago :
Then I dreamt a glorious vision
Of great deeds to crown each year:

Sixty Christmas Days have found me
Useless, helpless, blind and here!

Yes, I feel my darling stealing
Warm soft fingers into mine:
Shall I tell her what I fancied

In that strange old dream of mine?
I was kneeling by the window,
Reading how a noble band,

With the red cross on their breastplates, Went to gain the Holy Land.

While with eager eyes of wonder
Over the dark page I bent,
Slowly twilight shadows gathered
Till the letters came and went;
Slowly, till the night was round me;
Then my heart beat loud and fast,
For I felt before I saw it

That a spirit near me passed.

Then I raised my eyes, and, shining Where the moon's first ray was bright,

Stood a winged Angel-warrior

Clothed and panoplied in light: So, with Heaven's love upon him, Stern in calm and resolute will, does the picture

Looked St. Michael,

Hang in the old cloister still?

Threefold were the dreams of honor

That absorbed my heart and brain; Threefold crowns the Angel promised, Each one to be bought by pain: