Mary Mapes Dodge.
High and Low [Q]
The showers fall as softly
Upon the lowly grass
As on the stately roses
That tremble as they pass.
The sunlight shines as brightly
On fern-leaves bent and torn
As on the golden harvest,
The fields of waving corn.
The wild birds sing as sweetly
To rugged, jagged pines,
As to the blossomed orchards,
And to the cultured vines.
. . . . . . . .
Dora Read Goodale.
By Cool Siloam's Shady Rill
By cool Siloam's shady rill
How sweet the lily grows!
How sweet the breath beneath the hill
Of Sharon's dewy rose!
Lo, such the child whose early feet
The paths of peace have trod;
Whose secret heart, with influence sweet,
Is upward drawn to God.
Reginald Heber.