From the earth thy spirit hath flow,
Far beyond the etherial blue;
True the clods of the vale o'er thy body we cast,
But thy spirit the grave did eschew.
To the city of God it hath flown,
Where sin and disease never come,
Where sighing and…
One by one the sands are flowing,
One by one the moments fall;
Some are coming, some are going—
Do not strive to grasp them all.
One by one thy duties wait thee—
Let thy whole strength go to each;
Let no future dreams elate thee—
Learn thou…
I hail the glad Spring,
With its sunshine and showers,
With its warb'ling brooks,
Gay birds, and bright flowers,
For it brings the sweet rose,
The queen of the lawn,
Whose radiant hues
Greet the blushes of dawn.
The bright, blushing…
Bland as the morning's breath of June,
The south-west breezes play,
And through it's haze the winter's noon
Seems warm as summer's day.
The snow-plumed angel of the north
Has dropped his icy spear:
Again the mossy earth looks forth,
Again the…
The night was made for cooling shade,
For silence, and for sleep;
And when I was a child, I laid My hands upon my breast and prayed,
And sank to slumbers deep.
Child-like as then I lie to-night, And watch my lonely cabin light. Each movement of…
In the clear air of this vernal morn,
Azure above and crystal below.
Ere the full glory of day is born,
And shadows melt in its rosy glow,
Wrapped in a billowy warp and woof—
The smoke of our household incense—stands
A fair white angel over the…
'Tis done, and shivering in the gale,The bark unfurls her snowy sail,And whistling o'er the bending mast,Loud sings on high the freshning blast;And must you from this land be gone,In Afric's burning clime to roam?As some lone bird without a mate,Thy…
The pines were dark on Ramoth hill,
Their song was soft and low;
The blossoms, in the sweet May wind,
Were falling like the snow.
The blossoms drifted at our feet,
The orchard birds sand clear;
The sweetest and the saddest day
It seemed of all…
Why do the great, the good, the just,Expire in pain, and sleep in dust,
And virtue sink in gloom?
Why does the sage, the patriot why,Like the vile wretch, in anguish die,
And find as dark a tomb?
And why most merit fall at last,Before the…
"Suffer little children to cmoe to unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of heaven."They are going—only going—
Jesus called them long ago;
All the wintry time they're passing
Softly as the falling snow.
When the violets in the…
