SOMETIME, when all life's lessons have been learned,

And Sun and Stars forevermore have set,

The things which our weak judgments here have spurned, The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet,

Will flash before us, out of life's dark night

As Stars shine most in deeper tints of blue; And we shall see how all God's plans are right,

And how what seemed reproof was love most true.

And we shall see, how, while we frown and sigh,
God's plans go on as best for you and me;
How when we called, He heeded not our cry
Because his wisdom to the end could see,
And e'en as prudent parents disallow

Too much of sweet to craving babyhood,
So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now
Life's sweetest things because it seemeth good.
And if sometime, commingled with life's wine,
We find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink,
Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine

Pours out this potion for our lips to drink.
And if some friend we love is lying low

Where human kisses cannot reach his face, Oh! do not blame the loving Father so,

But bear your sorrow with obedient grace;

And you shall shortly know, that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends His friend,
And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death
Conceals the fairest boon His love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life

And stand within, and all God's workings see,
We could interpret all this doubt and strife,
And for each mystery could find a key.

But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart;
God's plans, like lilies pure and white, unfold;
We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart,

Time will reveal the chalices of gold. And if, through patient toil, we reach the land Where tired feet, with sandals loose, may rest, When we shall clearly know and understand, I think that we shall say that "God knew best." Mrs. May Riley Smith.

Not Beath.

Nor death, but life.

Thank God that she has risen,

That He has sent her peace,

That from the pain and shadow of its prison

Her soul has found release.

We may not know the glory and the gladness

That on the spirit shine,

That bore on earth its agony and sadness

With patience so divine.

We only know her weariness is ended,

That she from pain is free,

That her pure soul has to its God ascended,
In joy and liberty.

'Tis ours to prize the nature we inherit,
Which she has glorified.

Nor doubt the power of the immortal spirit
Since she has lived and died.

O silent lips! the lessons you have taught us
We tell with falling tears:

O noble life! what blessing thou hast brought us
Through all thy weary years!

As all unconscious of thy wondrous beauty,

Thou passest into light,

May thy sweet patience fill our hearts, and duty
Grow holy in our sight.

L.M. C.

SUNRISE!- her feet have touched the hills of God; Heaven's morning air blows sweet upon her brow; She sees the King in all his beauty now,

And walks his courts with full salvation shod.

"Looking to'ard Sunset," even here she caught
Prophetic hints of those far, shining lands
That lie beyond,-like one who understands
The sign, ere yet the miracle is wrought.

And so she went: ah, we who stay below,
Watching the radiance of her upward flight,
Who, who of us shall reach such lofty height,
Or leave behind so fair an after-glow?

Caroline A. Mason

Release.

AS ONE who leaves a prison cell,

And looks, with glad though dazzled eye,
Once more on wood and field and sky,
And feels again the quickening spell

Of Nature thrill through every vein,
I leave my former self behind,

And, free once more in heart and mind,
Shake off the old, corroding chain.

Free from my past- —a jailer dread —
And with the Present clasping hands,
Beneath fair skies, through sunny lands,
Which memory's ghosts ne'er haunt, I tread.
The pains and griefs of other days
May, shadow-like, pursue me yet;
But toward the sun my face is set,
His golden light on all my ways.

S. S. Conant.

The Bead.

THE dead are like the stars by day,
Withdrawn from mortal eye,
Yet holding unperceived their way
Through the unclouded sky.

By them, through holy hope and love,
We feel, in hours serene,
Connected with a world above,

Immortal and unseen.

For death his sacred seal hath set
On bright and bygone hours;
And they we mourn are with us yet,
Are more than ever ours,-

Ours by the pledge of love and faith,
By hopes of heaven on high;
By trust, triumphant over death,
In immortality.

Barton.

Dying.

PASSING out of the shadow

Into a purer light;

Stepping behind the curtain,
Getting a clearer sight;

Laying aside a burden,

This weary mortal coil;
Done with the world's vexations,
Done with its tears and toil;

Tired of all earth's playthings,
Heartsick, and ready to sleep,
Ready to bid our friends farewell,
Wondering why they weep;

Passing out of the shadow

Into eternal day,—

Why do we call it dying?
This sweet going away.

"PEACE!

Peace.

He hath given sweet release;
Neither toil nor care nor pain
Ever shall be hers again.
Where a song of rapture thrills
O'er the everlasting hills,
He hath bade all sorrow cease
In the blessing of His peace."

"Rest!

Precious promise, oh, how blest!
Did she hear His cheering word?
'Cast thy burden on the Lord.'
All who suffer, all who bear
Burdens sore of sin or care,
All ye weary and oppressed,
'Come and I will give you rest.'

L.