If you have but a word, a smile, or a tear,

Don't hoard it, give freely, 'twill solace some grief, Take the pain from some heart, some weary one cheer, And bring to the pain in thy own heart relief.

510

-Horace M. Richards.

THE TWO CHURCHES.

There is a gray cathedral old

With long and solemn aisle,

Where footsteps hush, nor eye is shocked
By an irreverent smile.

Where genteel ladies dress for show,—

And men, with business airs,
Engage, for stipulated sum,

A man to say their prayers!

Where grand the pealing organ note,
Rolls thundering to the dome,
And with a listless dreamy air
We hear of far-off home.
Where at the table none may sit

Save those of high degree,
Who pay th' almighty dollar down;
Unquestioned piety!

There is a church-another church,
Spread out before each eye;
Its temple is the mighty arch
Of yonder outspread sky;
Its choir is formed of angel-bands
That fill with praise each hour,
Its music, their spontaneous songs,
Like fragrance from the flower!

Here every weary one of earth,
May join his praise with theirs.
For to this church of Nature fair,
Mankind are common heirs,
And if men turn the shoulder cold
Of haughty Pharisee,

'Neath Heaven's azure we may sit

In sacrament with Thee! Lita Barney Sayles.

511

RECOMPENSE.

Some flowers there are of modest worth

That grow, and bloom, and die on earth,
Unprized, far hid from mortal eye,

Yet yielding perfume till they die.

Some souls there are, whose lives are full of bloom, Who live unknown, until they reach the tomb; Souls filled with modest virtues rare,

Who, like the flower, shed fragrance everywhere.

Some hearts there are with kindness filled,
Whose loving warmth hath ne'er been chilled;
Such hearts have throbbed and warmly beat,
To shed o'er other lives a perfume sweet.

Some souls I know, who radiance shed,
Yet ever walk with living dead,
Who unto others consolation give;
Themselves-regretting that they live.

For such shall dawn a bright to-morrow,
Beyond this world of wrong and sorrow,
Where kindly deeds sown here, in tears
Shall bud and bloom through eternal years.

-Horace M. Richards.

512

REST.

Life's battle's fought,

Its victory won,
Its work outwrought,

Its labor done.

No toil nor pain,

Thoul't then endure,

Then why complain?

Rest cometh sure.-Horace M. Richards,

10s

513

THERE IS NO DEATH.

There is no death! 'tis but the higher birth,
The stepping out from clay, away from earth.
A spirit disenthralled, forever free-

'Tis but renewing life, not death to me.

There is no death! all nature proves this truth;
'Tis but the glad returning of our youth;
What though the outer form be laid away?
The risen spirit finds eternal day.

There is no death! 'tis but a newer life,
The cutting of a cord by Nature's knife,
The breaking of a chain that holds us down,
The opening of a cage-the prisoner flown.

There is no death! what though exhaled the dew, It changes into forms forever new;

What though the seed be laid in wintry tomb, The spring time comes, and calls it up to bloom.

There is no death! the sun goes down at night, That it may rise again-the morning's light; The twinkling stars that seem to pass away Are only hid in clearer, brighter day.

There is no death! this pulsing heart of mine
May cease to beat, the soul-lit eye to shine,
And from the body go the fleeting breath,
And yet the risen spirit knows no death.

There is no death! the Father calls us home,
In tender, loving tone, he bids us come,
Away from earth, away from weary care,
To higher, better life, to scenes more fair.

There is no death! this clod of mortal clay
May lose its form, through Nature's sure decay
But the freed spirit in realms supernal.
Solves life's mystery, the life eternal!
-Hor

514

BE THYSELF.

Be thyself. There's nothing grander
Written in thy soul!

Trust thyself and stand the firmest,
When life's surges wildest roll!

Let Reason be thy helmsman,
He'll guide thy bark aright,
And be thy pole-star duty;

No clouds e'er dim that light.

Thou must sail like all around thee,
Oft in calm and oft in storm;
Oft shall hear the cordage creaking,
Oft torn sails come rattling down.

Oft the reefs rise before thee,

Turn thee from thy chosen path;
Oft overboard shall go thy treasure;
Oft the past grins like a wraith.

Courage still! the storm when ended
Leaves a smooth and placid sea;
And in place of sails thus rended,
Stronger sails there then will be.

In the stead of sunken treasure,
A richer cargo shalt thou find;
And thy path now seeming wayward,
Shall prove straight as path of wind.

And the wraith that came to daunt thee
Shall prove an angel guide,

That with smiles shall beckon onward,

To heaven's calmer tide.

When thou anchorest in that haven,
And reviewest thy log,

Thou wilt find therein recorded,

"Peace!"-the autograph of God.

-Capt. H. H. Brown.

515

A CHANT.

Immortal ones who trod the arching way,

That spans the dark abyss of death and night, Descend to us from your celestial day

And guide our wandering feet to love the right.

CHORUS-Come in our weariness, spirits of love,
Come in our sadness, spirits of light.

The earth is dark to your supernal eyes,
And pain and weariness a burden are;
But come and bring the summer of your skies,
And let us of your love a portion share.

CHORUS-Come in our weariness, etc.

Oh, make us cheerful whatsoe'er our cares,
Angels of light, our helpers in distress,
Lead us away from sin's alluring snares,
Into the heaven of spotless holiness.

CHORUS-Come in our weariness, etc.

Most happy is the man who hears
Instruction's warning voice,
And who essential wisdom makes
His late and early choice.

Her riches are of more esteem

Than east and west unfold,
And her rewards more precious seem,
Than all their mines of gold.

In her right hand she holds to view
A length of happy years,

And in her left the prize of fame
A goddess she appears.