We each commend each to Omnipotent hands, And calm on His promise repose; And know that, though scattered o'er seas and o'er lands, We are sure to reach home at the close. Meanwhile, we kneel down at the same Throne of Grace; We breathe up the same daily prayer ; Sweet hope realizes the things that shall be, And, reaching by these to what sense cannot see, We strive to be all that the absent would love; With aims so exalted, and trust so secure, All else is in lovely accord, All holy, all happy, all peaceful and pure.O, who would not love in the Lord ? ELLEN. SHE rests beneath her native earth, Close to the spot that gave her birth. Her young feet trod the flowers that bloom Meet emblems-on her early tomb : Her living voice was wont to cheer The echoes which our sorrows hear. She rests beneath her native earth; A flower upon the desert thrown, That lived and breathed to God alone. F Yet long her gentle ways shall dwell In hearts that knew and loved her well; To hear her calling from the skies ; SPARE MY FLOWER. O SPARE my flower, my gentle flower, Let it bloom out its little hour, And pass away. Too soon its fleeting charms must lie O hasten not its destiny, Too like thy own. The breeze will roam this way to-morrow, And sigh to find his playmate gone : The bee will come its sweets to borrow, And meet with none. |