Now Nature sinks in soft repose,

A living semblance of the grave;
The dew steals noiseless on the rose,

The boughs have almost ceased to wave ;
The silent sky, the sleeping earth,

Tree, mountain, stream, the humble sod,
All tell from whom they had their birth,
And cry,
Behold a God !"

Horatius Bonar.

1808-1889.

THE MASTER'S TOUCH.

In the still air the music lies unheard,

In the rough marble beauty hides unseen; To wake the music and the beauty, needs The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen.

Great Master, touch us with Thy skilful hand;
Let not the music that is in us die!
Great Sculptor, hew and polish us; nor let,
Hidden and lost, Thy form within us lie!

Spare not the stroke! do with us as Thou wilt!
Let there be naught unfinished, broken, marred;
Complete Thy purpose, that we may become
Thy perfect image, O our God and Lord!

HE LIVETH LONG WHO LIVETH WELL.

He liveth long who liveth well!
All other life is short and vain ;
He liveth longest who can tell
Of living most for heavenly gain.

He liveth long who liveth well!
All else is being flung away;
He liveth longest who can tell
Of true things truly done each day.

Waste not thy being; back to Him
Who freely gave it, freely give ;
Else is that being but a dream;
'T is but to be, and not to live.

Be wise, and use thy wisdom well;
Who wisdom speaks must live it too;
He is the wisest who can tell

How first he lived, then spoke, the true.

Be what thou seemest! live thy creed!
Hold up to earth the torch divine;
Be what thou prayest to be made ;
Let the great Master's steps be thine.

Fill up each hour with what will last;
Buy up the moments as they go;
The life above, when this is past,

Is the ripe fruit of life below.

Sow truth, if thou the true wouldst reap: Who sows the false shall reap the vain; Erect and sound thy conscience keep;

From hollow words and deeds refrain.

Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure;
Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright;
Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor,
And find a harvest-home of light.

THE NEW SONG.

Beyond the hills where suns go down,
And brightly beckon as they go,

I see the land of far renown,

The land which I so soon shall know.

Above the dissonance of time,

And discord of its angry words, I hear the everlasting chime,

The music of unjarring chords.

I bid it welcome; and my haste
To join it cannot brook delay,
O song of morning, come at last,
And ye who sing it, come away.

O song of light, and dawn, and bliss,
Sound over earth, and fill these skies!
Nor ever, ever, ever cease

Thy soul-entrancing melodies!

Glad song of this disburdened earth,
Which holy voices then shall sing;
Praise for creation's second birth,
And glory to creation's King!

BE TRUE.

Thou must be true thyself,

If thou the truth wouldst teach;
Thy soul must overflow, if thou
Another's soul wouldst reach :
It needs the overflow of heart
To give the lips full speech.

Think truly, and thy thoughts
Shall the world's famine feed;
Speak truly, and each word of thine
Shall be a fruitful seed;
Live truly, and thy life shall be
A great and noble creed.

Julia Pardoe.

1808-1862.

THE BEACON-LIGHT

Darkness was deepening o'er the seas,—

And still the hulk drove on;

No sail to answer to the breeze,—
Her masts and cordage gone :

Gloomy and drear her course of fear,—
Each looked but for a grave,—
When, full in sight, the beacon-light
Came streaming o'er the wave.

And gayly of the tale they told,

When they were safe on shore ;

How hearts had sunk, and hopes grown cold, Amid the billows' roar ;

When not a star had shone from far,

By its pale beam to save,

Then, full in sight, the beacon-light

Came streaming o'er the wave.

Then wildly rose the gladdening shout
Of all that hardy crew;

Boldly they put the helm about,

And through the surf they flew.
Storm was forgot, toil heeded not,
And loud the cheer they gave,
As, full in sight, the beacon-light
Came streaming o'er the wave.

Thus, in the night of Nature's gloom,
When sorrow bows the heart,
When cheering hopes no more illume,
And comforts all depart;

Then from afar shines Bethlehem's star,
With cheering light to save;

And, full in sight, its beacon-light

Comes streaming o'er the grave.