There may be hope in the future
With its dreams too bright to last,
But they lack the consecration
That clings round thoughts of the past.
She came when the May-time scattered
May-buds upon holt and lea:
And the glint of the sunshine seemed sweeter,
And a new song was sung by the sea.
'T was a page from the book of Creation, With an imprint I knew was divine, And I felt the infinite yearning
For the new life sprung from mine.
Ah me! how we loved our blossom!
And it scarce seems days ago
That she crowed and laughed in the summer,
And faded in winter snow.
It seems like a vision remembered
Of a death in unrestful sleep,
When fearsome thoughts come upon you
As storms brood over the deep.
And whenever I hear the laughter
That rings from a child at play,
I think of our dear dead snowdrop,-
And it seems but yesterday.
The May-time had changed to summer,
And the roses of autumn come,
The birds sung blithe in the branches,
But blither the birdie at home.
The cynic may sneer at the feeling,
For a cold, hard creed is rife ;
But I know that my love for my darling
Was my purest thought in life.
She grew with the summer's fruitage,
But in warm autumnal days,
She faded, it seemed like the leaflets
That strewed the woodland ways.
It was hard to mark, and still harder
To think that the hopes we kept
Must be buried away with old fancies,
And dreams that in silence slept.
Were we never to see her joyous
In childhood's innocent play?
Ah, no! she was called, and left us -
And it seems but yesterday.
At last-how well I remember
The long and lingering night,
When we watched by the tiny cradle
Till the morning's earliest light;
And then when the desolate morning
Shone cold through the winter bars,
Lo! God had taken our snowdrop
To blossom beyond the stars.
It was hard to bow in submission
When we thought of the vacant place,
And there within the cradle
The white little baby face.
Only one thought could comfort,
The echo of words divine,
That, tender as any mother,
By the waters of Palestine,
He spake, who bade the children
Draw near on the sacred sod,
When he stretched out hands of blessing,
"Of such is the kingdom of God."
SHE always stood upon the steps
Just by the cottage door,
Waiting to kiss me when I came
Each night home from the store.
Her eyes were like two glorious stars,
Dancing in heaven's own blue -
"Papa," she 'd call like a wee bird,
"I's looten out for oo!"
Alas! how sadly do our lives
Change as we onward roam !
For now no birdie voice calls out
To bid me welcome home.
No little hands stretched out for me,
No blue eyes dancing bright,
No baby face peeps from the door
When I come home at night.
And yet there's comfort in the thought
That when life's toil is o'er,
And passing through the sable flood
I gain the brighter shore,
My little angel at the gate,
With eyes divinely blue,
Will call with birdie voice, " Papa,
I's looten out for oo!"
MATTIE'S WANTS AND WISHES.
I WANTS a piece of talito
To make my doll a dress;
I does n't want a big piece-
A yard 'll do, I guess.
I wish you'd fred my needle,
And find my fimble, too
I has such heaps o' sowin',
I don't know what to do.
My Hepsy tored her apron
A tum'lin' down the stair;
And Cæsar 's lost his pantaloons,
And needs anozzer pair.
I wants my Maud a bonnet,
She hasn't none at all;
And Fred must have a jacket,
His uzzer one 's too small.
I wants to go to grandma's,
You promised me I might;
I know she 'll like to see me -
I wants to go to-night.
She lets me wash the dishes,
And see in grandpa's watch-
Wish I'd free, four pennies,
To buy some butter-scotch.
I wants some newer mittens,
I wish you'd knit me some,
'Cause 'most my fingers freezes,
They leak so in the fum.
I wored it out last summer
A-pullin' George's sled;
I wish you would n't laugh so-
It hurts me in my head.
I wish I had a cooky-
I'm hungry 's I can be ;
If you has n't pretty large ones,
You'd better bring me free.
GRAN'MA AL'US DOES.
I WANTS to mend my wagon,
And has to have some nails;
Just two, free will be plenty;
We're goin' to haul our rails.
The splendidest cob fences
We're makin' ever was!
I wis' you'd help us find 'em -
Gran'ma al'us does.
My horse's name is "Betsey;"
She jumped and broke her head,
I put her in the stable
And fed her milk and bread; The stable 's in the parlor,
We didn't make no muss; I wis' you'd let it stay there Gran'ma al'us does.
I's goin' to the cornfield
To ride on Charlie's plough, I spect he 'd like to have meI wants to go right now.
Oh, won't I "gee-up " awful,
And "whoa" like Charlie whoas!
I wis' you would n't bozzer
Gran'ma never does.
I wants some bread and butter,
I's hungry worstest kind;
But Freddy must n't have none-
'Cause he would n't mind.
Put plenty of sugar on it;
I'll tell you what I knows:
It's right to put on sugar-
Gran'ma al'us does.
"Pray the Lord"-the sound came faintly,
Fainter still-"My soul to keep;
Then the tired head fairly nodded,
And the child was fast asleep.
But the dewy eyes half opened
When I clasped her to my breast, And the dear voice softly whispered, "Mamma, God knows all the rest."
Oh, the trusting, sweet confiding
Of the child heart! Would that I
Thus might trust my Heavenly Father,
He who hears my feeblest cry.
"NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP."
GOLDEN head so lowly bending,
Little feet so white and bare,
Dewy eyes, half shut, half opened,
Lisping out her evening prayer.
Well she knows when she is saying,
"Now I lay me down to sleep,"
'Tis to God that she is praying,
Praying him her soul to keep.
Half asleep, and murmuring faintly,
"If I should die before I wake,'
Tiny fingers clasped so saintly, -
"I pray the Lord my soul to take."
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