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THH WILD ROSE BY THE RAILROAD. 57

But its leaves by the soft dew of Heaven were nourished,

And it opened its buds to the warm light of day.

I asked why it grew there, where none prized its

beauty;

For, of thousands that passed, none had leisure to

stav;

And the answer came, sweetly, "I do but my duty;

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There

to bloom here, by the side of the way."

are those on life's pathway whose spirits are willing

To dwell where the busy crowd passes them by ; But the dew from above on their lives is distilling, And they bloom in the smile of the All-Seeing

They

Eve.

are loved by the few; let the wild rose remind them,

When tempted from duty's lone pathway to stray, They, too, have a place and a mission assigned them, Though it be but to grow by the side of the way.

S.

58

PRAYING IN SECRET.

PRAYING IN SECRET.

I NEED not leave the jostling world,
Or wait till daily tasks are o'er,

To fold my hands in secret prayer,

Within the close-shut closet door.

There is a voiceless cloistered room
Within me, open every day;

Where, though my feet may join the throng,
My soul may enter in and pray.

When I have banished wayward thought,

Of sinful works the fruitful seed,
When folly wins the ear no more,
The closet door is shut indeed.

No human step approaching, breaks
The blissful stillness of the place;

No shadow steals across the light

That falls from my Redeemer's face.

One listening, even, cannot know

When I have crossed the threshold o'er, For He, alone, who hears my prayer

Has heard the shutting of the door.

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WE call them weeds, the while with slender fingers
Earth's wounds and scars they seek to cover o'er;
On sterile sands where scarce the rain-drop lingers,
They grow and blossom by the briny shore.

We call them weeds;-did we their forms but study,
We many a secret might enfolded find;
Each tiny plant fulfills its heaven-taught mission,
And bears the impress of immortal mind.

We call them weeds-the while their uses hidden
Might work a nation's weal, a nation's woe;

Send through each wasted frame the balm of healing,
And cause the blood with youth's quick pulse to

flow.

Weeds yet they hold in bonds the mighty ocean!

Their slender threads bind firm the sandy shore; Navies may sink amid its wild commotion,

These humble toilers ne'er their work give o'er.

And who shall say the feeblest thought avails not
To bind the shifting sands upon life's beach?
Some heart may treasure what we've long forgot,

The faintest word some soul with power may

reach.

60

THE VOICE IN THE TWILIGHT.

THE VOICE IN THE TWILIGHT.

I WAS sitting alone, toward the twilight,
With spirit troubled and vexed,

With thoughts that were morbid and gloomy,
And faith that was sadly perplexed.

Some homely work I was doing

For the child of my love and care,
Some stitches half wearily setting

In the endless need of repair.

But my thoughts were about the "building,"
The work some day to be tried;

And that only the gold, and the silver,
And the precious stones should abide.

And remembering my own poor efforts,
The wretched work I had done,
And, even when trying most truly,
The meagre success I had won;

"It is nothing but wood, hay and stubble,"
I said; "it will all be burned-

This useless fruit of the talents

One day to be returned.

THE VOICE IN THE TWILIGHT.

"And I have so longed to serve Him,
And sometimes I know I have tried;
But I'm sure when He sees such building
He will never let it abide."

Just then, as I turned the garment,
That no rent should be left behind,

My eye caught an odd little bungle
Of mending and patchwork combined.

My heart grew suddenly tender,
And something blinded my eyes
With one of those sweet intuitions

That sometimes makes us so wise.

Dear child, she wanted to help me;

I knew 'twas the best she could do;
But O, what a botch she had made it—
The
gray mismatching the blue!

And yet can you understand it?

With a tender smile and a tear,
And a half compassionate yearning,
I felt her grown more dear.

Then a sweet voice broke the silence,
And the dear Lord said to me,
"Art thou tenderer for the little child

Than I am tender for thee?"

61

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