Day fretted the east with its stormy gold,
Creeping slow through a casement old,
And stealing sadly with faint, cold ray
Into the hut where the old man lay.
White and still was the scattered hair,
And the hands were crossed with a reverent air;—
Calm and stirless the eyelids lay,
Pale as marble and cold as clay,
But the lips were tenderly wreathed, the while,
With the beautiful light of a saintly smile;
And I knew he had passed from that desolate room
To a fadeless treasure beyond the tomb.
PALMER.
THREE YEARS OLD.
A light departed from the hearth of home,
Leaving a shadow where its radiance shone,—
A flower just bursting into life and bloom,
Lopped from its stem, the bower left sad and lone,—
A golden link dropped from love's precious chain,—
Gem from affection's sacred casket riven,—
Of music's richest tones a missing strain,—
A bird-note hushed in the blue summer heaven!
That light is gathered to its Source again,
Though long its radiance will be missed on earth,
That flower, transplanted to a sunnier plain,
Bloometh immortal where no blight has birth;
That missing link gleams in Love's chain above,—
That lost gem sparkles on the Saviour's breast,—
That music-uttrance, tuned to holier love,
Swells richly 'mid the anthems of the blest.
Thank God! there's nothing lost! A little while,
And what ye miss will be your own again
E'en the dear clay once more will on you smile
With life immortal throbbing in each vein
Tis well to leave your treasure with the Lord—
With One so tender your beloved to see,—
Back to the Source of life a life restored—
Then where your treasure is let your affections be!
BALMY MORNING
Balmy morning! blessed morning!
Dew-drops bright
All the emerald glade adorning
In thy light—
In thy golden glowing beam
With an ever-changeful gleam
Flashing sparkling deeply glowing
Varying tints of beauty showing
Everywhere
Radiant are
In thy welcome light!
Balmy morning! blessed morning!
Flowers look up,
With a precious, pearly off'ring,
In each cup—
Dewy off'ring gleaned by night,
As a tribute to the light,—
Far more precious than the gem
Of a monarch's diadem,
Is the gift
Which they lift
To thy welcome light!
Balmy morning! blessed morning!
Sounds of mirth,
From the vocal vales ascending,
Hail thy birth.
Happy birds in echoing bowers,
Waken all their tuneful powers,
And spontaneous music springs
From all animated things,—
Verdant hills,
Tuneful rills,
Joyful greet thy light!
Balmy morning! blessed morning!
How serene,
In thy calm and cloudless dawning
Smiles the scene!
Even man, by care oppressed,
Feels thy gladness thrill his breast,
Hails thee as a source of bliss,
Precious in a world like this,
Gratefully
Blessing thee—
Welcome, morning light!