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And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep-the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,

The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man-
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves

To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.


7HITHER, midst falling dew,

While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,

Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way?

Vainly the fowler's eye

Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly seen against the crimson sky,

Thy figure floats along.

Seek'st thou the plashy brink

Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,
Or where the rocking billows rise and sink
On the chafed ocean-side?

There is a Power whose care

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast-
The desert and illimitable air-

Lone wandering, but not lost.

All day thy wings have fanned,
At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere,
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,
Though the dark night is near.

And soon that toil shall end;

Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest.

Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven

Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart.

He who, from zone to zone,

Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone,
Will lead my steps aright.


NOT in the solitude

Alone may man commune with Heaven, or see,

Only in savage wood

And sunny vale, the present Deity;

Or only hear His voice

Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice.

Even here do I behold

Thy steps, Almighty!-here, amidst the crowd
Through the great city rolled,

With everlasting murmur deep and loud-
Choking the ways that wind

'Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind.

Thy golden sunshine comes

From the round heaven, and on their dwellings lies And lights their inner homes;

For them Thou fill'st with air the unbounded skies, And givest them the stores

Of ocean, and the harvests of its shores.

Thy Spirit is around,

Quickening the restless mass that sweeps along ;
And this eternal sound -

Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng-
Like the resounding sea,

Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of Thee.

And when the hour of rest
Comes, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine,
Hushing its billowy breast-

The quiet of that moment too is thine;
It breathes of Him who keeps

The vast and helpless city while it sleeps.


THE mods the calm fields with light;

HE moon is at her full, and, riding high,

The airs that hover in the summer sky
Are all asleep to-night.

There comes no voice from the great woodlands round
That murmured all the day;

Beneath the shadow of their boughs the ground
Is not more still than they.

But ever heaves and moans the restless Deep;
His rising tides I hear,

Afar I see the glimmering billows leap;

I see them breaking near.

Each wave springs upward, climbing toward the fair Pure light that sits on high

Springs eagerly, and faintly sinks, to where

The mother-waters lie.

Upward again it swells; the moonbeams show
Again its glimmering crest;

Again it feels the fatal weight below,
And sinks, but not to rest.

Again and yet again; until the Deep
Recalls his brood of waves;

And, with a sudden moan, abashed, they creep
Back to his inner caves.

Brief respite! they shall rush from that recess
With noise and tumult soon,

And fling themselves, with unavailing stress,
Up toward the placid moon.

O restless Sea, that, in thy prison here,
Dost struggle and complain;

Through the slow centuries yearning to be near
To that fair orb in vain;

The glorious source of light and heat must warm Thy billows from on high,

And change them to the cloudy trains that form
The curtains of the sky.

Then only may they leave the waste of brine
In which they welter here,

And rise above the hills of earth, and shine
In a serener sphere.


LORD, who ordainest for mankind
Benignant toils and tender cares!
We thank Thee for the ties that bind
The mother to the child she bears.

We thank Thee for the hopes that rise
Within her heart, as, day by day,
The dawning soul, from those young eyes,
Looks, with a clearer, steadier ray.

And grateful for the blessing given
With that dear infant on her knee,
She trains the eye to look to heaven,
The voice to lisp a prayer to Thee.
Such thanks the blessed Mary gave,
When, from her lap, the Holy Child,
Sent from on high to seek and save

The lost of earth, looked up and smiled.
All-Gracious! grant, to those who bear
A mother's charge, the strength and light
To lead the steps that own their care
In ways of Love, and Truth, and Right.


As cast summer grass,
So, in Thy sight, Almighty One!
Earth's generations pass.

S shadows, cast by cloud and sun,

And while the years, an endless host,
Come pressing swiftly on,

The brightest names that earth can boast

Just glisten, and are gone.

Yet doth the Star of Bethlehem shed

A lustre pure and sweet;

And still it leads, as once it led,
To the Messiah's feet.

O Father, may that holy Star
Grow every year more bright,
And send its glorious beams afar
To fill the world with light.


TANDING forth on life's rough way,
Father, guide them;

Oh! we know not what of harm

May betide them;

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