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We sit in the warm shade and feel right well How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell; We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing

That skies are clear and grass is growing;

The breeze comes whispering in our ear

That dandelions are blossoming near,

That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing,

That the river is bluer than the sky,

That the robin is plastering his house hard by;
And if the breeze kept the good news back,
For other couriers we should not lack.

From "Part First."

As Sir Launfal made morn through the darksome gate,

He was 'ware of a leper, crouched by the same, Who begged with his hand and moaned as he

sate;

And a loathing over Sir Launfal came;

The sunshine went out of his soul with a thrill, The flesh 'neath his armor 'gan shrink and crawl, And midway its leap his heart stood still

Like a frozen waterfall;

For this man, so foul and bent of stature,

Rasped harshly against his dainty nature,

And seemed the one blot on the summer morn,So he tossed him a piece of gold in scorn.

The leper raised not the gold from the dust:

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Better to me the poor man's crust,

Better the blessing of the poor,

Though I turn me empty from his door;

That is no true alms which the hand can hold ;

He gives nothing but worthless gold

Who gives from a sense of duty;

But he who gives a slender mite,

And gives to that which is out of sight,
That thread of the all-sustaining beauty
Which runs through all and doth all unite,-
The hand cannot clasp the whole of his alms,
The heart outstretches its eager palms,
For a God goes with it and makes it store
To the soul that was starving in darkness before."

From "Part Second."

Sir Launfal said: "I behold in thee

An image of Him who died on the tree ;

Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns,

Thou also hast had the world's buffets and

scorns,

And to thy life were not denied

The wounds in the hands and feet and side:
Mild Mary's Son, acknowledge me;

Behold, through him, I give to Thee!"

Then the soul of the leper stood up in his eyes And looked at Sir Launfal, and straightway he

Remembered in what a haughtier guise
He had flung an alms to leprosie,

When he girt his young life up in gilded mail
And set forth in search of the Holy Grail.
The heart within him was ashes and dust;
He parted in twain his single crust,
He broke the ice in the streamlet's brink,
And gave the leper to eat and drink,

'T was a mouldy crust of coarse brown bread,
'T was water out of a wooden bowl,—

Yet with fine wheaten bread was the leper fed, And 't was red wine he drank with his thirsty soul.

As Sir Launfal mused with downcast face,

A light shone round about the place;

The leper no longer crouched at his side,
But stood before him glorified,

Shining and tall and fair and straight

As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate,
Himself the gate whereby men can

Enter the temple of God in man.

His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine,

And they fell on Sir Launfal as snows on the brine,

Which mingle their softness and quiet in one With the shaggy unrest they float down upon; And the voice that was calmer than silence said:

"Lo, it is I, be not afraid!

In many climes, without avail,

Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail;
Behold it is here, this cup which thou
Didst fill at the streamlet for me but now;
This crust is my body broken for thee,
This water his blood that died on the tree;
The holy supper is kept, indeed,

In whatso we share with another's need;
Not what we give, but what we share,-
For the gift without the giver is bare ;
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,—
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.”

FROM "MY LOVE."

She doeth little kindnesses,

Which most leave undone, or despise :
For naught that sets one heart at ease,
And giveth happiness or peace,
Is low-esteemèd in her eyes.

She hath no scorn of common things,
And, though she seem of other birth,
Round us her heart entwines and clings,
And patiently she folds her wings

To tread the humble paths of earth.

Samuel Longfellow.

1819.

LOOKING UNTO GOD.

"God's hand in all things, and all things in God's hand."

I look to Thee in every need,

And never look in vain ;

I feel Thy touch, Eternal Love,
And all is well again;

The thought of Thee is mightier far
Than sin and pain and sorrow are.

Discouraged in the work of life,
Disheartened by its load,
Shamed by its failures or its fears,
I sink beside the road;-

But let me only think of Thee,

And then new heart springs up in me.

Thy calmness bends serene above,

My restlessness to still;
Around me flows Thy quickening life

To nerve my faltering will;
Thy presence fills my solitude,
Thy providence turns all to good.

Embosomed deep in Thy dear love,
Held in Thy law, I stand;
Thy hand in all things I behold,
And all things in Thy hand;
Thou leadest me by unsought ways,
And turn'st my mourning into praise.

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