CCXVIII JOY TAUGHT BY NATURE THE HE child leans on its parent's breast, The bird sits singing by his nest, And tells aloud His trust in God, and so is blest He has no store, he sows no seed; The heart that trusts forever sings, Come good or ill: Whate'er to-day, to-morrow, brings, It is His will! I. Williams CCXIX WAVES AND LEAVES WAVES, waves, waves! Graceful arches lit with night's pale gold, Boom like thunder through the mountains rolled, Sing and work for God along the strand. Leaves, leaves, leaves ! Beautified by Autumn's scorching breath, Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts! Rolling wave-like on the mind's strange shore, O that they might follow God's good Hand! CCXX THE RAINBOW Then storms prepare to part, RIUMPHAL arch, that fill'st the sky I ask not proud philosophy To teach me what thou art. Still seem as to my childhood's sight, A midway station given, For happy spirits to alight Betwixt the earth and heaven. Can all that optics teach, unfold When Science from Creation's face And yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams, When o'er the green undeluged earth Heaven's covenant thou didst shine, How came the world's gray fathers forth To watch thy sacred sign! And when its yellow lustre smiled Methinks thy jubilee to keep Nor ever shall the Muse's eye The earth to thee its incense yields, How glorious is thy girdle cast As fresh in yon horizon dark, For faithful to its sacred page, Nor lets the type grow pale with age, That first spoke peace to man. T. Campbell O, never sin and want and woe this earth will leave, And the bells but mock the wailing sound, they sing so cheery. How long, O Lord! how long, before Thou come again? Still in cellar, and in garret, and on mountain dreary, The orphans moan, and widows weep, and poor men toil in vain, Till earth is sick of hope deferred, though Christmas bells be cheery. Then arose a joyous clamor, from the wild-fowl on the mere, Beneath the stars, across the snow, like clear bells ringing, And a voice within cried, "Listen!— Christmas carols even here Though thou be dumb, yet o'er their work the stars and snows are singing. “Blind ! — I live, I love, I reign; and all the nations through, With the thunder of My judgments even now are ring ing; Do thou fulfil thy work, but as yon wild-fowl do, Thou wilt heed no less the wailing, yet hear through it angels singing.". C. Kingsley |