Laughing children run to meet her From the home-door opened wide; Loving words and kisses greet her, Pattering feet run by her side; All the home comes forth to meet her. III. Look once more! a pilgrim weary Standeth in the twilight gray; All around is strange and dreary, Then a Presence stood to guide her, "Home," she breathed, with restful sigh, IV. Homeward still, the tiny maiden, W. H. Savage. The Sunset Way. THE sun that sinks when Eventide Sits veiled, with dewy eyes, Beside the gateway of the West, On other lands doth rise. The life that sinks, when failing breath Is hushed to stillness at the last, Veiled in the mystery of death, Is as a star when clouds sweep past. Night's gateway is the gate of Dawn, Death's gate the gate of Birth; The sun that set is shining on; The soul now lost to earth, Emerging from the brief eclipse By evening shadows cast, Smiles, star-like, in that other morn Where pain and death are past. And, spreading fair and sweet before, Are fields of rest and peace, Where joy doth sing for evermore, And love doth still increase. O friends, who take the sunset way And fear the coming night, Each sunset is a birth of day, Your steps approach the light. Love cannot die: eternity Shall keep your sacred trust, be sure; Look onward! High above the tomb The omens of the morning shine! The evening has its transient gloom, The morrow comes with beams divine. W. H. Savage. The Finished Life. THERE'S a beauty of the spring-time But there is no less of beauty When the leaves turn gold and brown In the short'ning days of autumn, And far south the birds have flown. If the rough hand of the tempest Who can wonder if one grieves? But when off the autumn branches Here the old man by the fireside Backward looks through tender tears, As he sitteth by the window, "I have seen the world's fair beauty; "For the face of her who loved me I have wrought the work God gave me, And O friends, who'd dare to keep him? M. J. S. “Better Off.” "HE'S better off." With words like these Kind friends their comfort try to speak. None doubts it of a man like him; Yet far off sound the words, and weak. The heart that loves is not content, To have him happy far away, But cries, "I want him still with me!" That other country may be fair, Brighter than aught the earth has shown, But better any place with him Than to be left here all alone. Thus pleads the heart that God has made,- The folded hands, the closing eyes, The yielding up of failing breath,— These not the worst: to tear apart Two hearts that truly love is death. Since love is all the joy of life, In earth below or heaven above, Like ships the storms drive far apart We still sail for the self-same port, And meet there when the voyage is done. And as we tell the story o'er, How we were driven by the blast, More sweet will be those sunny hours Death's Lesson. FROM these closed eyes, and these white lips What to the ear that silence hears, Does Death to us, the living, say? "Sweet friends, the words of love you wish M. J. S. 'No more for me can you do aught, Save make the flowers bloom where I sleep: But hearts of living ones still ache, And eyes of living ones still weep. "Pour out on them the love and care You wish you could on me bestow: Then, when some other falls asleep, O'er vain regrets no tears shall flow." Death, then, would teach us how to live,- A. K. C. WHEN falls the night upon the earth, The sun's not dead: his radiance still And when the dawn star groweth dim It still shines on, though earthly eyes, Some other world is glad to see Our star that's gone away: The light whose going makes our night The feet that cease there walking here, The hand whose patient fingers now Have laid earth's labor by, Some higher ministry. M. J. S |