He who doth teach the little birds

To find their meat in field and wood,
Who gives the countless flocks and herds
Each day their needful drink and food,
Thy hunger too will surely satisfy,
And all thy wants in His good time supply.
Be thou content.

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,—
But not his scorned and hated name,

Nor yet his poverty and shame;

These bitter things he knew,—
But left his peace for you.

Beloved, take the gift anew;
It passeth knowledge, deep and true.

Tender as is the brooding dove,
And stronger than the heart of love,
Its home-the Father's breast-
Was left to bring you rest.

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-
O Love and Freedom! ye are lovely things!"

I

SIT upon a cypress bough

Close to the gate; and I fling my song
Over the gate and through the mail
Of the warden angels marshaled strong,-
Over the gate and after you!

And the warden angels let it pass,
(Because the poor brown bird, alas!

Sings in the garden sweet and true.)
And I build my song of high, pure notes,
Note over note, height over height,
Till I strike the arch of the Infinite;

And I bridge abysmal agonies
With strong, clear calms of harmonies.

(Song.)

Exiled human creatures

Let your hope grow larger,
Larger grows the vision

Of the new delights.