“WITH A DIFFERENCE.”

    I’m weary waiting here,
      The chill east wind is sighing,
    The autumn tints are sere,
      The summer flowers are dying. 
    The river’s sullen way
      Winds on through vacant meadows,
    The dying light of day
      Strives vainly with the shadows.

    A footstep stirs the leaves! 
      The faded fields seem brighter,
    The sunset gilds the sheaves,
      The low’ring clouds look lighter. 
    The river sparkles by,
      Not all the flowers are falling,
    There’s azure in the sky,
      And thou, my love, art calling.

THE LILY OF THE LAKE.

    Over wastes of blasted heather,
    Where the pine-trees stand together,
    Evermore my footsteps wander,
    Evermore the shadows yonder
                Deepen into gloom. 
    Where there lies a silent lake,
    No song-bird there its thirst may slake,
    No sunshine now to whiteness wake
                The water-lily’s bloom.

    Some sweet spring-time long departed,
    I and she, the simple-hearted,
    Bride and bridegroom, maid and lover,
    Did that gloomy lake discover,
                Did those lilies see. 
    There we wandered side by side. 
    There it was they said she died. 
    But ah! in this I know they lied! 
                She will return to me!

    Never, never since that hour
    Has the lake brought forth a flower. 
    Ever harshly do the sedges
    Some sad secret from its edges
                Whisper to the shore. 
    Some sad secret I forget. 
    The lily though will blossom yet: 
    And when it blooms I shall have met
                My love for evermore.

    FROM FLEETING PLEASURES.

    A REQUIEM FOR ONE ALIVE.

    From fleeting pleasures and abiding cares,
    From sin’s seductions and from Satan’s snares,
    From woes and wrath to penitence and prayers,
                        Veni in pace!

    Sweet absolution thy sad spirit heal;
    To godly cares that end in endless weal,
    To joys man cannot think or speak or feel,
                        Vade in pace!

    From this world’s ways and being led by them,
    From floods of evil thy youth could not stem,
    From tents of Kedar to Jerusalem,
                        Veni in pace!

    Blest be thy worldly loss to thy soul’s gain,
    Blest be the blow that freed thee from thy chain,
    Blest be the tears that wash thy spirit’s stain,
                        Vade in pace!

    Oh, dead, and yet alive!  Oh, lost and found! 
    Salvation’s walls now compass thee around,
    Thy weary feet are set on holy ground. 
                        Veni in pace!

    Death gently garner thee with all the blest,
    In heavenly habitations be thou guest;
    To light perpetual and eternal rest,
                        Vade in pace!