He who doth teach the little birds To find their meat in field and wood, PAUL GERHARDT. HE Master, ere His work was done, Breathed this sweet message for his own As near to death he drew, 'My peace I leave with you." 'My peace "but not the loneliness Nor friend, nor home, nor child to bless,— Nor yet his poverty and shame; These bitter things he knew,— Beloved, take the gift anew; Tender as is the brooding dove, MRS. LUTHER Keene. "Dome up, O heaven! yet higher o'er my head! Back! back, horizon ! widen out my world!" "Let star-wheels and angel wings, with their holy winnowings, Keep beside you all your way, Lest in passion you should dash, with a blind and heavy crash, Up against the thick-bossed shield of God's judgment in the field." "God's greatness flows around our incompleteness ; Round our restlessness-His rest." "There went a swift bird singing past my cell- I SIT upon a cypress bough Close to the gate; and I fling my song And the warden angels let it pass, Sings in the garden sweet and true.) And I bridge abysmal agonies (Song.) Exiled human creatures Let your hope grow larger, Of the new delights. |