On fragile stem it sways,

From which spring here and there,
Green folded buds, and tiny sprays
Of velvet leaflets rare.

Did some bright angel fling
This gem from Eden's bower,
Ere it had known the withering
Of sin's accursed power?

Nav, but one far above

The highest ranks of heaven,

In token of unceasing love,

This flower to earth hath given.

Each silky petal bears

The signature divine,

Each mingling tint says, "still He cares
For the world's weal, and thine.”

CHARLIE AND THE ROBIN'S SONG.

One summer morning early,

When the dew was bright to see,

Our dark eyed little Charlie
Stood by his mother's knee.

And he heard a robin singing
In a tree, so tall and high ;
On the topmost bough 'twas swinging,
Away up in the sky.

"Mamma, the robin's praying

In the very tree top there:
Glory! glory! it is saying;

And that is all its prayer.
But God will surely hear him,
And the angels standing by ;
For God is very near him,
Away up in the sky."

"My child, God is no nearer
To robin on the tree,

And does not hear him clearer
Than he does you and me.
For he hears the angels harping
In sun-bright glory drest,
And the little birdlings chirping
Down in their leafy nest,'

"Mamma, if you should hide me
Away down in the dark,
And leave no lamp beside me,

Would God then have to hark?

And if I whisper lowly

All covered in my bed,

Do you think that Jesus holy

Would know what 'twas I said!"

"My darling little lisper,
God's light is never dim;
The very lowest whisper
Is always close to him."

Now the robin's song was filling
The child's soul full of bliss ;

The very air was trilling

When his Mamma told him this,—

And he wished, in childish craving,

For the robin's wing to fly,

To sing on tree tops waving,

So very near the sky.

THE BRIDGE.

I stood on the bridge at midnight,
As the clocks were striking the hour,
And the moon rose o'er the city

Behind the dark church tower.

And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June,
The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon.

Among the long black rafters

The wavering shadows lay,

And the current that came from the ocean Seemed to lift and bear them away;

As sweeping and eddying through them, Rose the belated tide,

And streaming into the moonlight,

The sea weed floated wide.

And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers,
A flood of thoughts came o'er me,
That filled my eyes with tears.

How often, O how often,

In the days that had gone by, I had stood on that bridge at midnight, And gazed on that wave and sky!

How often, O how often

I had wished that the ebbing tide Would bear me away on its bosom O'er the ocean wild and wide!

For my heart was hot and restless
And my life was full of care,
And the burden laid upon me
Seemed greater than I could bear.

But now it has fallen from me,
It is buried in the sea;
And only the sorrow of others

Throws its shadow over me'

Yet whenever I cross the river,

On its bridge with wooden piers, Like the odour of brine from the ocean Comes the thought of other

years.

And I think how many thousands
Of care encumbered men,

Each bearing his burden of sorrow,
Have crossed the bridge since then.

I see the long procession.
Still passing to and fro,

The young heart hot and restless
And the old subdued and slow!

And for ever, and for ever,

As long as the river flows,
As long as the heart has passions,
As long as life has woes;

The moon and its broken reflection
And its shadows shell appear,
As the symbol of love in heaven,
And its wavering image here.

REASSURING PROSPECT.

All is light and all is joy,

The spider's foot doth busily

Unto the silken tulip tie

His circling silver broidery.

The dragon fly on fluttering wings,
Mirrors the orbs of her large eyes
In the bright pond where creeping things
Make a dark world of mysteries.

The full blown rose, grown young again,
Kisses the sweet bud's tender blush,
The bird pours forth his tuneful strain
Within the sun illumined bush.

He blesses God who ne'er is hid
From the pure soul to virtue given,
Who makes the dawn a fiery lid
For the azure eye of heaven.

In woods that soften every sound,
The timid fawn doth dreaming play;
And in the green moss shining round
Beetles their living orb display.

The moon all pale in sunlit skies,
A cheerful convalescent seems;

And opens soft her opal eyes,

Whence heaven's sweetness downward streams.

The wallflower with the gamesome bee,
Plays by the crumbling ruins old;

The furrow waketh joyfully,

Moved by the seed that burst their fold.

All lives and sits around with grace-
The sunbeam on the threshold wide,
The gliding shade on the water's face,
The blue sky on the green hill's side.

On joyful plains bright sun-rays fall,

Woods murmur, fields with flowers are clad,

Fear nothing man; for nature all

Knows the great secret, and is glad.

THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR.

Lord our God! with adoration

In thy presence we appear; Thankful for thy ceaseless blessings, For thy mercies always near; With merciful thoughts of kindness Granted to us through the year.