96

SOWING SEEDS.

By a whisper sow we blessings;
By a breath we scatter strife:
In our words and looks and actions
Lie the seeds of death and life.

Thou, who knowest all our weakness,
Leave us not to sow alone:
Bid thine angels guard the furrows
Where the precious grain is sown,
Till the fields are crowned with glory,
Filled with yellow ripened ears,
Filled with fruit of life eternal

From the seed we sowed in tears.

Check the forward thoughts and passions;
Stay the hasty, heedless hands,
Lest the germs of sin and sorrow
Mar our fair and pleasant lands.
Father! help each weak endeavour,
Make each faithful effort blest,
Till thine harvest shall be garnered,
And we enter into rest.

ANONYMOUS.

OVER THE RIVER.

97

OVER THE RIVER.

VER the river they beckon to me,

Ον

Loved ones who've passed to the other side:

The gleam of their snowy robes I see,

But their voices are lost in the dashing tide. There's one with ringlets of sunny gold,

And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue.

He crossed in the twilight gray and cold,

And the pale mist hid him from mortal view.

We saw not the angels who met him there;
The gates of the city we could not see:
Over the river, over the river,

My brother stands waiting to welcome me.

Over the river the boatman pale

Carried another, the household pet: Her bright curls waved in the gentle gale, Darling Minnie! I see her yet.

G

98

OVER THE RIVER.

She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands,
And fearfully entered the phantom bark:
We watched it glide from the silver sands,
And all our sunshine grew strangely dark.
We know she is safe on the other side,
Where all the ransomed and angels be:
Over the river, the mystic river,

My childhood's idol is waiting for me.

For none return from those quiet shores
Who cross with the boatman cold and pale:
We hear the dip of the golden oars,

We catch a gleam of the snowy sail,

And lo! they have passed away from our heart; They cross the stream, and are gone for aye! We cannot sunder the veil apart

That hides from our vision the gates of day: We only know that their barks no more

Shall sail with ours on Life's stormy sea;
Yet somewhere I know on the unseen shore
They watch and beckon and wait for me.

And I sit and think, when the sunset's gold
Is flushing river and hill and shore,

I shall one day stand by the water cold,

And list for the sound of the boatman's oar.

NOT MADE WITH HANDS.

I shall watch for the gleam of the snowy sail;
I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand;
I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale
To the better shore of the spirit land.

I shall know the loved who have gone before
And joyfully sweet will the meeting be,
When over the river, the peaceful river,
The angel of Death shall carry me.

99

NANCY PRIEST.

TEMPLES NOT MADE WITH HANDS.

"TIS not in temples made with hands
The great Creator dwells :

But on the mountain-top he stands,
And in the lowly dells:
Wherever fervent prayer is heard
He stands recording every word;
In dell, on mountain, everywhere,
He never fails to answer prayer.

Yes in the poor man's lowly stall,
And in the prisoners' cells,
And in the rich man's lordly halls,
The great Creator dwells :

Where two or three are joined in prayer,
His audience hall, his house, is there;
Wherever prays the child of grace
Is his peculiar dwelling-place.

Think you that temples built of stone,
And blest by priestly hand,
Are more peculiarly his own,
More reverence demand?
Go to thy closet; shut the door,
And all thy mercies ponder o'er :
Thine all-pervading God is there;
He loves to answer secret prayer.

The temple thy Creator owns,
That temple is the heart:
No towering pile of costly stones,

No work of human art.

The cloud-capped spire that points on high
May draw the lightning from the sky ;

But 'tis the humble, modest flower

That drinks in the refreshing shower,
And in return for favours given,

Breathes its soft fragrance back to heaven.

ANONYMOUS.