“For all your works of christian love
  And heaven-born charity,
Are registered in Heaven above
  As so much done to Me.”

STANZAS

Written on the fly leaf of A child’s Bible.

Dear Mollie, in thy early days,
While treading childhood’s dreamy maze,
      Peruse this book with care: 
Peruse it by the rising sun;
Peruse it when the day is done,
      Peruse it oft with prayer.

Search it for counsel in thy youth,
For every page is bright with truth
      And wisdom from on high. 
Consult it in thy riper years,
When foes without and inward fears
      Thy utmost powers defy.

And when life’s sands are well nigh run
And all thy work on earth is done,
      In patience wait and trust,
That He whose promises are sure
Will number you among the pure,
      The righteous and the just.

CHRISTMAS GREETING, 1877.

    Read before the Jackson Hall Debating Society.

The rolling seasons come and go,
As ebbs the tide again to flow,
And Christmas which seemed far away
A year ago, is near to-day. 
And day and night in quick succession,
Are passing by like a procession. 
While we like straws upon a stream,
Are drifting faster than we deem,
To that unknown, that untried shore,
Where days and nights will be no more,
And where time’s surging tide will be,
Absorbed in vast eternity. 
Where then shall we poor mortals go? 
No man can tell, we only know
We are but strangers in the land. 
Our fathers all have gone before,
And shortly we shall be no more. 
This hall where we so often meet
Will soon be trod by other’s feet,
And where our voices now resound,
Will other speakers soon be found. 
And thus like wave pursuing wave,
Between the cradle and the grave
The human tide is prone to run,
The sire succeeded by the son. 
May we so spend life’s fleeting day,
That when it shall have passed away,
We all may meet on that blessed shore,
Where friends shall meet to part no more.

ANNIVERSARY POEM.

    Read at the anniversary of the seventieth birthday of Mrs. Ann
    Peterson.

No costly gifts have I to bring,
  To grace your festive board,
This humble song, I’ve brought to sing,
  Is all I can afford.

Then let my humble rhyme be heard
  In silence, if you please,
You’ll find it true in ev’ry word,
  It flows along with ease.

We’ve met in honor of our friend
  Who seventy years ago,
Came to this earth some years to spend,
  How many none can know.

The world is using her so well,
  I hope she’ll tarry long,
And ten years hence I hope to tell,
  “I have another song.”