* * * * *

Now and Here

      O not to-morrow or afar,
      Thy work is now and here;
    Thy bosom holds the fairest star—­
      Dost see it shining clear?

      The nearest things are great,
      Remotest very small,
    To him with eyes to penetrate
      The silent coronal.

      So deep the basis lies
      Of life’s great pyramid,
    That out of reach of common eyes
      Prophetic work is hid.

    His reign for which we pray,
      His kingdom undefiled,
    Whose scepter shall not pass away,
      Is in a little child.

* * * * *

A Little Child

      Come hither, little child,
      And bring thy heart to me;
    Thou art the true and unbeguiled,
      So full of melody.

      The presence of a child
      Has taught me more of heaven,
    And more my heart has reconciled
      Than Greece’s immortal Seven.

      For when I sometimes think
      That life is void of song,
    Before a little child I sink
      And own that I am wrong.

      And lo my heart grows bright
      That was so dark and drear,
    Till in the tender morning light
      I find the Lord is near.

* * * * *

The Divine Presence

      O, when the Lord is near,
      The rainbow banners wave;
    The star I follow shineth clear,
      I am no more a slave.

      As if to honor Him,
      My work is true and free;
    And flowing to the shining brim,
      The cup of heaven I see.

      I marvel not that song
      Should be employment there
    In which the innumerable throng
      Their palms of triumph bear;

      Or that the choral strife
      And golden harps express
    The stirring labors of the life
      Of peace and righteousness.

* * * * *

Death in Life

      The song of work, I know,
      Has here its minor tone;
    And in its ever-changing flow,
      Death, death in life is known.

      Discordant notes, alas! 
      So often cleave the air
    And smite the music as they pass,
      And leave their poison there.

      And oft, ah me! from some
      Wild region of the heart
    Will startling intimations come,
      And peace at once depart.

      With open foes without,
      And secret foes within,
    His heart must needs be brave and stout
      That would life’s battle win.

Evil

      In the great wilderness
      Through which I hold my way,
    Is there no refuge from distress,
      Where foes are kept at bay?