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And thus thy soul shall learn to draw
Sweetness from out that loving law
That sees no failure and no flaw,

Where all is good. And life is good,
Were the one lesson understood
Of its most sacred brotherhood.

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A CHANGELING.

LITTLE changeling spirit

Crept to my arms one day:
I had no heart or courage
To drive the child away.

So all day long I soothed her,
And hushed her on my breast;

And all night long her wailing
Would never let me rest.

I dug a grave to hold her,
A grave both dark and deep;

I covered her with violets,
And laid her there to sleep.

I used to go and watch there,
Both night and morning too:—

It was my tears, I fancy,
That kept the violets blue.

I took her up: and once more

I felt the clinging hold,
And heard the ceaseless wailing

That wearied me of old.

I wandered, and I wandered,
With my burden on my breast,

Till I saw a church-door open,
And entered in to rest.

In the dim, dying daylight,

Set in a flowery shrine, I saw the Virgin Mother

Holding her Child divine.

I knelt down there in silence,

And on the Altar-stone I laid my wailing burden,

And came away—alone.

And now that little spirit,

That sobbed so all day long, Is grown a shining Angel,

With wings both wide and strong.

She watches me from Heaven, With loving, tender care,

And one day she has promised That I shall find her there.

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DISCOURAGED.

HERE the little babbling streamlet First springs forth to light, Trickling through soft velvet mosses, Almost hid from sight; Vowed I with delight,— "River, I will follow thee, Through thy wanderings to the Sea!"

Gleaming 'mid the purple heather,

Downward then it sped,
Glancing through the mountain gorges,

Like a silver thread,

As it quicker fled,
Louder music in its flow,
Dashing to the Vale below.

Then its voice grew lower, gentler,
And its pace less fleet,

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