One leads us through the watches of the night—
By the ceaseless intercession of our loved ones lost to sight
He is with us through all trials, in His mercy and His might;—
With our mothers there about Him, all our sorrow disappears,
Till the silence of our sobbing is the prayer the Master hears,
And His hand is laid upon us with the tenderness of tears
In the waning of the watches of the night.
HIS VIGIL.
Close the book and dim the light,
I shall read no more to-night.
No—I am not sleepy, dear—
Do not go: sit by me here
In the darkness and the deep
Silence of the watch I keep.
Something in your presence so
Soothes me—as in long ago
I first felt your hand—as now—
In the darkness touch my brow;
I've no other wish than you
Thus should fold mine eyelids to,
Saying nought of sigh or tear—
Just as God were sitting here.
THE PLAINT HUMAN
Season of snows, and season of flowers,
Seasons of loss and gain!—
Since grief and joy must alike be ours,
Why do we still complain?
Ever our failing, from sun to sun,
O my intolerent brother:—
We want just a little too little of one,
And much too much of the other.
BY ANY OTHER NAME.
First the teacher called the roll,
Clos't to the beginnin',
"Addeliney Bowersox!"
Set the school a-grinnin'.
Wintertime, and stingin'-cold
When the session took up—
Cold as we all looked at her,
Though she couldn't look up!
Total stranger to us, too—
Country-folks ain't allus
Nigh so shameful unpolite
As some people call us!—
But the honest facts is, then,
Addeliney Bower-
Sox's feelin's was so hurt
She cried half an hour!
My dest was acrost from her 'n:
Set and watched her tryin'
To p'tend she didn't keer,
And a kind o' dryin'
Up her tears with smiles—-tel I
Thought, "Well, 'Addeliney
Bowersox' is plain, but she's
Purty as a piney!"