They leave to-morrow's cares

Until the morrow, what it brings it bears.
And I, Lord, would be such;

Not high, or great, or anxious overmuch,
But pure and temperate,

Earnest to do Thy Will betimes and late,
Fragrant with love and praise

And innocence through all my appointed days;
Thy lily I would be

Spotless and sweet, Thy lamb to follow Thee.

PASSING AND GLASSING.

ALL things that pass

Are woman's looking-glass;

They show her how her bloom must fade,

And she herself be laid

With withered roses in the shade;

With withered roses and the fallen peach,
Unlovely, out of reach

Of summer joy that was.

All things that pass

Are woman's tiring-glass;

The faded lavender is sweet,

Sweet the dead violet

Culled and laid by and cared for yet;

The dried-up violets and dried lavender

Still sweet, may comfort her,

Nor need she cry Alas!

IF LOVE IS NOT.

All things that pass

Are wisdom's looking-glass;

Being full of hope and fear, and still

Brimful of good or ill,

According to our work and will;

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For there is nothing new beneath the sun;

Our doings have been done,

And that which shall be was.

THE

GOLDEN GLORIES.

HE buttercup is like a golden cup,
The marigold is like a golden frill,
The daisy with a golden eye
looks up,

And golden spreads the flag beside the rill,
And gay and golden nods the daffodil;
The gorsey common swells a golden sea,
The cowslip hangs a head of golden tips,

And golden drips the honey which the bee

Sucks from sweet hearts of flowers and stores and sips.

IF

IF LOVE IS NOT.

I.

love is not worth loving, then life is not worth
living,

Nor aught is worth remembering, but well forgot,
For store is not worth storing, and gifts are not worth

giving,

If love is not.

II.

And idly cold is death-cold, and life-heat idly hot,
And vain is any offering, and vainer our receiving,
And vanity of vanities is all our lot.

III.

Better than life's heaving heart is death's heart unheaving,

Better than the opening leaves are the leaves that rot, For there is nothing left worth achieving or retrieving, If love is not.

LOVE'S LIGHT.

LOVE lights the sun, Love through the dark
Lights the moon's evanescent arc,

Lights up the star, lights up the spark.

O ye who taste that love is sweet,
Set waymarks for all doubtful feet
That stumble on in search of it.

Sing notes of love; that some who hear
Far off inert may lend an ear,

Rise up and wonder and draw near.

Lead life of love; that others who
Behold your life may kindle too
With love, and cast their lot with you.

SUMMER WILL COME.

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I

YET A LITTLE WHILE.

DREAMED and did not seek: to-day I seek Who can no longer dream;

But now am all behindhand, waxen weak,

And dazed amid so many things that gleam,
Yet are not what they seem.

I dreamed and did not work: to-day I work,
Kept wide awake by care

And loss, and perils dimly guessed to lurk :
I work and reap not, while my life goes bare
And void in wintry air.

I hope indeed; but hope itself is fear

Viewed on the sunny side;

I hope, and disregard the world that's here,
The prizes drawn, the sweet things that betide:
I hope, and I abide.

SUMMER WILL COME.

A

ROSE which spied one swallow

Made haste to blush and blow:

"Others are sure to follow: "
Ah no, not so!

The wandering clouds still owe
A few fresh flakes of snow,
Chill fog must fill the hollow,

Before the bird-stream flow

In flood across the main

And winter's woe

End in glad summer come again.

Then thousand flowers may blossom by the shore, But that Rose never more.

WAIT.

IE still, my restive heart, lie still;

God's Word to thee saith, "Wait and bear."

The good which He appoints is good,

The good which He denies were ill;
Yea, subtle comfort is thy care,
Thy hurt a help not understood.

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Friend, go up higher," to one; to one, “Friend, enter thou My joy," He saith: To one,"Be faithful unto death."

For some a wilderness doth flower,

Or day's work in one hour is done,

"But thou, couldst thou not watch one hour?"

OF

SHOW PITY.

all the downfalls in the world

The flutter of an Autumn leaf

Grows grievous by suggesting grief;

Who thought, when Spring was first unfurled, Of this? The wide world lay empearled: Who thought of frost that nips the world? Sigh on, my ditty.