BLESSEDNESS. There is a something sweet and pure, And long to win that Blessedness. It hath no shadow, this soft light, An all-abiding sense of Love, Fixed duty claiming every power, And human love to charm each hour,— And yet I know these are too much; 17 LOUISA J. HALL. 18 THE LITTLE WHILE." THE "LITTLE WHILE.” What is this he saith, "A little while?" Он, for the peace that floweth like a river, "A little while" for patient vigil-keeping, To face the stern, to wrestle with the strong; "A little while" to sow the seed with weeping, Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest song. "A little while" to wear the robe of sadness, "A little while" 'midst shadow and confusion, "A little while" the earthen pitcher taking To wayside brooks, from far-off fountains fed; Then the cool lip, its thirst forever slaking, Beside the fulness of the Fountain-head. THE PETRIFIED FERN. "A little while" to keep the oil from failing, 19 "A little while" faith's flickering lamp to trim; And then the Bridegroom's coming footsteps hailing, To haste to meet him, with the bridal hymn. And He, who is himself the Gift and Giver, J. CREWDSON. THE PETRIFIED FERN. IN a valley, centuries ago, Grew a little fern leaf, green and slender- Waving, when the wind crept down so low; Rushes tall, and moss, and grass grew round it, Drops of dew stole in, by night, and crowned it, Monster fishes swam the silent main, Stately forests waved their giant branches, Mammoth creatures stalked across the plain; 20 THE PETRIFIED FERN. Nature revelled in grand mysteries, But the little fern was not of these; Did not number with the hills and trees; Only grew and waved, its sweet wild way,- Earth, one time, put on a frolic mood, Heaved the rocks, and changed the mighty motion O, the long, long centuries since that day! Since that useless little fern was lost! Useless? Lost? There came a thoughtful man, Searching Nature's secrets, far and deep: He withdrew a stone, o'er which there ran Sweetly to surprise us, the last day. M. B. BRANCH. EXPRESSIVE SILENCE. 21 EXPRESSIVE SILENCE. SACRED silence! all thy power No! we lavish upon language Thought is silent, in its dwelling Deep within the breast; Speech is but the outward clothing Speech is but the upper current Far below, in sacred silence, Must the treasure be. Calmness, coolness, dwell with silence; Silent falls the dew; Silent roll the stars above us In the unfathomed blue. Silent worship! not the body, But the soul that stands With bowed head and ear attentive, |