Questions & Answers
There dwells one bright Immortal on the earth, Not known of all men. They who know her not Go hence forgotten from the House of Life, Sons of oblivion.
The Science-thought is pure and free; It whispers low and sweet to me, "How good to dwell in unity. " From Life and Love this angel flew To quicken, happify, renew; Each may re-prove the message true.
O CHURCH of Christ! O House not made with hands; Nor builded on the smooth and treacherous sands That ever fail; But on unchanging Truth's eternal rock, Where storms of doubt and angry tempests' shock Can ne'er prevail! Thou stand'st secure, while earthly temples fall; And peace and joy are found within thy wall, Where Love doth reign! Thy light doth constant shine for mortals' weal, And will eternal Love for aye reveal In sweet refrain. Thy gates are shut to sickness, sin, and death; For only Purity here entereth,— Naught that defiles.
The following, said to be an early, unpublished poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , seems one of his most spirited and spiritual productions. THE day was Easter, like a dying God in pain, The organ groaned aloud; The while the sunlight, chastened by the window's stain, Fell on a motley crowd; On lord and peasant, prince and pariah, who bore, As down the aisle they trod, As they had prospered, each according to his store, An Easter gift to God.
See the rivers flowing Downwards to the sea, Pouring all their treasures Bountiful and free: Yet to help their giving Hidden springs arise; Or, if need be, showers Feed them from the skies! Watch the princely flowers Their rich fragrance spread, Load the air with perfumes, From their beauty shed: Yet their lavish spending Leaves them not in dearth, With fresh life replenished By their mother earth! Give thy heart's best treasures, — From fair Nature learn; Give thy love — and ask not, Wait not a return! And the more thou spendest From thy little store, With a double bounty, God will give thee more. — Adelaide A.
It's strange how little boys' mothers Can find it all out as they do! If a fellow does anything naughty, Or says anything that's not true. They look at you just for a moment, Till the heart in your bosom swells, And then they know all about it, That "little bird" tells.
For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us. —Ephesians ii.
"Out of the mouth babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise. " Oh , for the faith of the children! What is it their angels behold? To them doth the face of the Father His tend'rest love ever unfold.
When our little Myrtle began to learn from her "A. B.
For the wealth of pathless forests, Whereon no axe may fall; For the winds that haunt the branches; The young bird's timid call; For the red leaves dropped like rubies Upon the dark green sod; For the waving of the forests, I thank Thee, O my God! For the sound of waters gushing In bubbling beads of light; For the fleets of snow-white lilies Firm-anchored out of sight; For the reeds among the eddies; The crystal on the clod; For the flowing of the rivers, I thank Thee, O my God! For the rosebud's break of beauty Along the toiler's way; For the violet's eye that opens To bless the new-born day; For the bare twigs that in summer Bloom like the prophet's rod; For the blossoming of flowers, I thank Thee, O my God! For the lifting up of mountains, In brightness and in dread; For the peaks where snow and sunshine Alone have dared to tread; For the dark of silent gorges, Whence mighty cedars nod; For the majesty of mountains, I thank Thee, O my God! For the splendor of the sunsets, Vast mirrored on the sea; For the gold-fringed clouds that curtain Heaven's inner mystery; For the molten bars of twilight, Where thought leans, glad, yet awed; For the glory of the sunsets, I thank Thee, O my God! For the earth, and all its beauty; The sky, and all its light; For the dim and soothing shadows That rest the dazzled sight; For unfading fields and prairies, Where sense in vain has trod; For the world's exhaustless beauty, I thank Thee, O my God! For the hidden scroll o'erwritten With one dear Name adored; For the Heavenly in the human; The Spirit in the Word; For the tokens of Thy presence Within, above, abroad; For Thine own great gift of Being, I thank Thee, O my God! — Lucy Larcom. I thank my Heavenly Father for all experiences, be they sweet or bitter, which help me to forgive all things, and to enfold the whole world with a blessing.