The Bead One's Message. COULD now the silence of these lips What last words, think you, would they say? "Weep for me tenderly; for I, Were you here lying in my place, Would press my warm lips on your brow, "For is it not death's sting to know "And, when this body's laid away, I'd have you my low earth-bed make All fresh with grass, and sweet with flowers, And sacred for the old time's sake. "But then, sweet friends, look up and on! Let sunshine all the clouds break through; And do not, for my sake, forget What for the living you should do! "Let not the shadow of my loss Darken the path the living tread; But let the memories of my past Still cheer and help though I am dead. "These ears can hear your words no more, However fondly you may speak: For my sake then, with words of love, "My heart, now still, no longer aches : But weary thousands watch and wake Through dreary nights and hopeless days; Help them before their sad hearts break! "Your willing hands for me have wrought; But now I need your help no more. Give those who suffer at your door. "Cherish my memory in your heart! "So from the grave I still may speak; M. J. S. Which is Better? FROM Out of the mystery cometh to earth Out into the mystery there beyond breath Goes a new child of God through the gateway of death. We smile at the birth, at the death toll the bell; How oft is the birth to a life full of tears,- How often, heart-hungry for love unreturned, How often the structures we reared with delight, A live sorrow often is harder, we say, And we sigh for the peace of an undisturbed sleep For if it be true we existed before, To the old home we died, as we came to this shore. Did they mourn our departure there, as we to-day Who knows then that what we call death may not be Take one more step onward, as ever we climb Birth and death may be one then the different view, And, since life reaches upward and on through all time, Since in birth and death both there are mysteries deep, We know not; and whether 'tis better to stay, Let us trust and be patient; for sure He must know, Birth! death! - which is better we now cannot tell. Believe then that both in His hands are well. The Loss of a Child. A LESSON OF TRUST. A BUD of life just opening Its petals fresh and fair, In spite of all my care! Both day and night I watched it, And love for sunshine bright. M. J. S. |