Poems

When the Daylight long expected Dawns upon the human view, Then will Life in all its splendor Be revealed to us anew. The great hereafter has no future, The past no memory house in store, The ever-present sense of goodness Fulfills the memory law of lore.

Robins in the tree-tops, Blossoms in the grass, Green things a-growing Every where you pass; Sudden little breezes Showers of silver dew Black bough and bent twig Budding out anew; Pine tree and willow-tree Fringed elm and larch, Don't you think that May time's Pleasanter than March? T. B.

Where hast been toiling all day, sweet-heart, That thy brow is burdened and sad? The Master's work may make weary feet, But it leaves the spirit glad. Was thy garden nipped with the midnight frost, Or scorched with the mid-day glare? Were thy vines laid low, or thy lilies crushed, That thy face is so full of care? "No pleasant garden-toils were mine!— I have sat on the judgment-seat, Where the Master sits at eve and calls The children around His feet.

On the whitest plumes of the Mayflower-tree, The blackbird loves to sing, There he prunes his breast with his golden beak, And ruffles his glossy black wing. Or he creeps to the sweet tree's innermost heart, And jugs with his mellow pipe; He whistles and flutes to the apple-flowers; The cherry will soon be ripe.

Teach me the way O God, to pray. Desire the Truth with all thy heart; Strive for the Truth, what e'er the smart, Then bend the knee, And presently Thy wish crowns thy humility.

The following poem is the production of a ten year old boy. We give it to our readers in its crude state, to show how children often idealize this Science thought, thus expressing harmony, even in a slight degree.

Go! tell the world the Christ is here! Life, Truth, and Love have come again! There is no doubt; dry every tear; 'Tis He whose Light dispels all fear! He goes before you, and he ne'er Will leave again the world in pain. Fly, brethren, fly to Galilee! There in the cirque of Truth, this day, And there upon its highest mount Thou'lt find Him! Tarry not to count The rugged path, for lo, the fount "All-Health" shall meet thee on the Way.

"Cast in your nets on the other side!" ('Twas Jesus speaking across the tide;) And they cast and were dragging hard; But that disciple whom Jesus loved Cried straightway out, for his heart was moved: "It is our risen Lord— Our Master, and our Lord!" 'Tis long ago, yet faith in our souls Is kindled just by that fire of coals That streamed o'er the mists of the sea; Where Peter, girding his fisher's coat, Went over the nets and out of the boat, To answer, "Lov'st thou me?" Thrice over, "Lov'st thou me?"— Alice Cary.

O Birds from out the east: O birds from out the west; Have you found the happy city in all your weary quest? Tell me, tell me, from earth's wandering may the heart find glad surcease? Can ye show me, as an earnest, any olive-branch of peace? There sleepeth no such city within the wide world's bound, Nor hath the dreaming fancy yet its blissful portals found; We are but children crying here upon a mother's breast, For life and peace and blessedness, and for eternal rest. I am weary of life's troubles, of its sin and toil and care, I am faithless, crushing in my heart so many a fruitless prayer; O birds from out the east; O birds from out the west; Can ye tell me of that city, the name of which is Rest? Bless God, I hear a still small voice above life's clamorous din, Saying, "Faint not, O weary one, thou yet may'st enter in.

No outward mark have we to know Who thine, O Christ, may be, Until a Christian love doth show Who appertains to thee: For knowledge may be reached unto, And formal justice gained, But till each other love we doe, Both faith and workes are feigned. — George Withers.