Poems of the Heart and Home | Page 2

To-morrow
Our Country, or, A Century of Progress
Jesus, the Soul's Rest
The Beautiful Artist
"Let us Pray"
Rich and Poor
Palmer
Balmy Morning
Song
The Ploughman
'He hath done all things we!'
Somewhere
The Tide
Eloise
Abraham Lincoln
God's Blessings
The Silent Messenger
Under the Snow
Longings
Point of Bliss
Away to the Hills
Flowers by a Grave
Three for Three
Now
Sunset
Sweet Evening Bells
Unknown
Onward
Looking Back
Minniebel
Weary
The Body to the Soul
Not Yet
Marguerite
Come unto Me
"I will not let thee go"
Greeting Hymn
One by One
Love
Evening Hymn
Death
I shall be satisfied
At the Grave of a Young Mother
Go, Dream no More
Come Home
Be in Earnest
Chlodine
The Bird and the Storm cloud
No Solitude
The Stray Lamb
Stay, Mother, Stay
Time for Bed
From the Old to the New
The Voice of Spring
Honour to Labor
The Miser
Broken
To our Parents
Under the Rod
The White Stone Canoe
Gone Before
Johanna
Stanzas
Canada
I laid me down and slept
Bright Thoughts for a Dark Day
The Drunkard's Child
The Names of Jesus

POEMS OF THE HEART AND HOME.

YES, THE WEARY EARTH SHALL BRIGHTEN.
Yes, the weary earth shall brighten-- Brighten in the perfect day, And the fields that now but whiten, Golden glow beneath the ray! Slowly swelling in her bosom, Long the precious seed has lain,-- Soon shall come the perfect blossom, Soon, the rich, abundant grain!
Long has been the night of weeping, But the morning dawns at length, And, the misty heights o'ersweeping, Lo, the sun comes forth in strength! Down the slopes of ancient mountains, Over plain, and vale, and stream, Flood, and field, and sparkling fountains, Speeds the warm rejoicing beam!
Think not God can fail His promise! Think not Christ can be denied! He shall see His spirit's travail-- He shall yet be satisfied! Soon the "Harvest home" of angels Shall resound from shore to shore, And amid Earth's glad evangels, Christ shall reign for evermore!

TO A DAY LILY
What! only to stay For a single day? Thou beautiful, bright hued on Just to open thine eyes To the blue of the skies And the light of the glorious sun, Then, to fade away In the same rich ray, And die ere the day is done?
Bright thing of a day Thou hast caught a ray From Morn's jewelled curtain fold On thy burning cheek, And the ruby streak His dyed it with charms untold-- And the gorgeous vest On thy queenly breast, Is dashed with her choicest gold.
A statelier queen Has never been seen, A lovelier never will be!-- Nay, Solomon, dressed In his kingliest best, Was never a match for thee, O beautiful flower, O joy of an hour-- _And only an hour_--for me!
An hour, did I say? Nay, loveliest, nay, Not thus shall I part with thee, But with subtle skill I shall keep thee still, Fadeless and fresh with me:-- Through toil and duty, "A thing of beauty Forever" my own to be'
As with drooping head Amid thorns I tread, I shall see thee unfold anew, In the desert's dust, Where journey I must, Why beautiful form shall view, And visions of Home O'er my spirit will come, As thro' tear-drops I gaze on you'

LIVING AND DYING.
Living for Christ, I die;--how strange, that I, Thus dying, live,--and yet, thus living, die! Living for Christ, I die;-yet wondrous thought, In that same death a deathless life is wrought;-- Living, I die to Earth, to self, to sin;-- Oh, blessed death, in which such life I win!
Dying for Christ, I live!--death cannot be A terror, then, to one from death set free' Living for Christ, rich blessings I attain, Yet, dying for Him, mine is greater gain Life for my Lord, is death to sin and strife, Yet death for Him is everlas'ing life!
Dying for Christ, I live!--and yet, not I, But He lives in me, who did for me die. I die to live,--He lives to die no more, Who, in His death my own death-sentence bore "To live is Christ," if Christ within me reign, To die more blessed, since "to die is gain!"

UP THE NEPIGON.
How beautiful, how beautiful, Beneath the morning sky, In bridal veil of snowy mist, These dreamy headlands lie! How beautiful, in soft repose, Upon the water's breast, Steeped in the sunlight's golden calm, These fairy islets rest!
A Sabbath hush enfolds the hills, And broods upon the deep Whose music every hollow fills, And climbs each rocky steep, Now low and soft like love's own sigh, Now faint and far away, Now plaining to the answering pines, With melancholy lay.
Like white-winged birds, through azure depths, Above the restless tide, With snowy plume and golden crest, The fleecy cloudlets glide; Their dancing shadows fleck the deep, Or flit above the green Of emerald islands fast asleep 'Neath tranquil skies serene.
I watch the sunshine and the shade, The sparkle and the gleam, Till past and present seem to fade, And life becomes a dream-- A fairy, fancy-tinted dream, A sun-bright; summer rest, In which I glide through shade and gleam Past islands of the blest
How beautiful! "How beautiful!" The quiet hills reply, And each responsive cliff