In my wanderings, oft there cometh
Sudden stillness to my soul;
When around, above, within it
Rapturous joys unnumber'd roll;
Though around me all is tumult,
Noise and strife on every hand,
Yet within my soul I list to
Voices from the spirit land.
3.
Loved ones that have gone before me
Whisper words of peace and joy;
Those that long since have departed,
Tell me their divine employ
Is to watch and guard my footsteps:
Oh, it is an angel band!
And my soul is cheered in hearing
Voices from the spirit land.
GEMS FROM LATE READINGS.
BY THE AUTHOR OF KATE WALSINGHAM.
Oh, there is many a spot in this every-day world of ours as bright and beautiful as those of which we dream, or go miles away to visit and admire; but we must seek for them in the right spirit, ere the dimness will pass away from eyes blinded by the love of foreign novelties. Our own land, ay, even our own city—the crowded mart of commerce, and the vast haunt of poverty and crime, is rich in many a quiet nook, which, although it might arrest the attention if depicted on the gemmed page of the picturesque annual by some summer tourist, it is considered plebeian to notice as we pass them in our daily walks.