I DREAMED of thee last night, love, And I thought that one came down From scenes of azure light, love, The most beautiful to crown. He wandered forth where diamonds And jewels rich and rare Shone brightly ’mid the glittering throng, Yet crownd no one there. He passd by all others, Till he came to where thou stood; And chose thee as the beautiful, Because thou wast so good. And said, as there he crowned thee, That Goodness did excel The jewels all around thee In which beauty seemed to dwell. For Goodness is that beauty Which will forever last; Then, crowning thee most beautiful, From earth to heaven he passed.
THEY TELL OF HAPPY BOWERS.
THEY tell of happy bowers,
Bloom bright with sweetest fragrance, and never, never die;
Where friends are joined forever,
hours come never,
And that that happier land is far beyond the sky;—
That when this life is ended
Shall meet in happy unison the spirits gone before;
And all that here hath vexed us,
ill perplexed us,
We shall see was for the best, and God of all adore.
Then, brother, hope and cheer thee,
hours are near thee,
If thou but livest holy, and hope, and trust, and wait;
Soon, trials all departed,
Shalt find a glorious entrance at heaven’s golden gate.
MAN CANNOT LIVE AND LOVE NOT.
MAN cannot live and love not; Around, beneath, above, There is that’s bright and beautiful, And worthy of his love; There is in every object That works out nature’s plan, Howe’er so low and humble, That’s worth the love of man. Each blade of grass that springeth From earth to beauty fair; Each tiny bird that wingeth Its course through trackless air; Each worm that crawls beneath thee, Each creature, great and small, Is worthy of thy loving; For God hath made them all. Should earthly friends forsake thee, And earth to thee look drear; Should morning’s dark forebodings But fill thy soul with fear, Look up! and cheer thy spirit- Up to thy God above; He’ll be thy friend forever- Forever!-"God is Love!”
BETTER THAN GOLD.
“Find we Lorenzo wiser
for his wealth?
What if thy rental I inform, and draw
An inventory new to set thee right?
Where is thy treasure? Gold says, ‘Not in me!’
And not in me, the diamond. Gold is poor,
Indies insolvent-. Seek it in thyself,
Seek in thy naked self, and find it there.”
Gold is, in itself, harmless-brilliant, beautiful to look upon; but, when man entertains an ungovernable, all-absorbing love of it, gold is his curse and a mill-stone around his neck, drawing him down to earth. How much sorrow that love has caused! O, there is love that is angelic! But high and holy as love is when bestowed upon a worthy object, in like proportion is it base and ignoble when fixed upon that which is unworthy.