Then sow; for the hours are fleeting, Fierce answers to the ang! sky, Miserere Domine. Through the black night and driving rain A ship is struggling, all in To live upon the stormy main ;- The thunders roar, the lightnings glare, And the seed must fall to-day; Vain is it now to strive or dare; A cry goes up of great despair, Miserere Domine. And care not what hands shall reap it, Or if you shall have passed away Before the waving cornfields Shall gladden the sunny day. WORDS. The morning shone all clear and gay, On a ship at anchor in the bay, And on a little child at play, Gloria tibi Domine! WORDS. WORDS are lighter than the cloud-foam Of the restless ocean spray; Vainer than the trembling shad OW That the next hour steals away. By the fall of summer rain-drops Is the air as deeply stirred; And the rose-leaf that we tread on Will outlive & word. Yet, on the dull silence breaking Earth can forge no keener weapon, Dealing surer death and pain, And the cruel echo answered Through long years again. I have known one word hang starlike ()'er a dreary waste of years, And it only shone the brighter Looked at through a mist of tears; 59 While a weary wanderer gathered Hope and heart on Life's dark way, By its faithful promise, shining Clearer day by day. I have known a spirit, calmer Than the calmest lake, and clear As the heavens that gazed upon it, With no wave of hope or fear; But a storm had swept across it, And its deepest depths were stirred, (Never, never more to slumber,) Only by a word. I have known a word more gentle Than the breath of summer air; In a listening heart it nestled, Stirred it ever, night or day; Only with the heart's last throbbing Could it fade away. Words are mighty, words are living: Serpents with their venomous stings, Or bright angels, crowding round us, With heaven's light upon their wings: Every word has its own spirit, FIDELIS. I have seen him in dreams so often, That I know what his smile must be. have toiled through the sunny woodland, Through fields that basked in the light; 61 But it might not be so freely All your friendship I restore, And the heart that I had taken As my own forevermore. No shade of reproach shall touch you, Dread no more a claim from ine: And through the lone paths in But I will not have you fancy WHAT lack the valleys and mountains That once were green and gay? What lack the babbling fountains? Their voice is sad to-day. Only the sound of a voice, What lack the tender flowers? Only two smiling eyes, What lacks my heart, that makes it So weary and full of pain, That trembling Hope forsakes it, Never to come again? Only another heart, THE SAILOR BOY. My Life you ask of? why, you know Full soon my little Life is told; It has had no great joy or woe, For I am only twelve years old. Erelong I hope I shall have beer. On my first voyage, and wonder seen. Some princess I may help to fres For the first time I ventur From our blue mountains of the north. My kinsman kept the lodge that stood Guarding the entrance near the wood, By the stone gateway gray and old, With quaint devices carved about, And broken shields; while dragons bold Glared on the common world without : And the long trembling ivy spray |