SUBMISSION.

THY will be done! I will not fear
The fate provided by thy love;
Though clouds and darkness shroud me here,
I know that all is bright above.

The stars of heaven are shining on,

Though these frail eyes are dimmed with tears; And though the hopes of earth be gone, Yet are not ours the immortal years?

Father! forgive the heart that clings,
Thus trembling, to the things of time;
And bid the soul, on angel wings,
Ascend into a purer clime.

There shall no doubts disturb its trust,
No sorrows dim celestial love;

But these afflictions of the dust,

Like shadows of the night, remove.

WORK.

THOU hast, midst Life's empty noises,
Heard the solemn steps of Time,
And the low mysterious voices
Of another clime.

All the mystery of Being

Hath upon thy spirit pressed;

Thoughts which, like the deluge-wanderer, Find no place of rest.

From the doubt and darkness springing
Of the dim, uncertain Past,
Moving to the dark still shadows
O'er the Future cast,

Early hath Life's mighty question
Thrilled within thy heart of youth,
With a deep and strong beseeching,-
What, and where, is Truth?

And to thee an answer cometh

From the earth and from the sky, And to thee the hills and waters, And the stars reply.

But a soul-sufficing answer
Hath no outward origin ;
More than Nature's many voices
May be heard within.

Not to ease and aimless quiet
Doth that inward answer tend;
But to works of love and duty,
As our being's end.

Earnest toil and strong endeavor
Of a spirit which within
Wrestles with familiar evil
And besetting sin;

And without, with tireless vigor,
Steady heart, and weapon strong,
In the power of truth assailing
Every form of wrong.

WORK.

WHAT are we set on earth for? Say, to toil;
Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines,
For all the heat o' the day, till it declines,
And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil.
God did anoint thee with his odorous oil,
To wrestle, not to reign; and He assigns
All thy tears over, like pure crystallines,
For younger fellow-workers of the soil
To wear for amulets. So others shall

Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand,
From thy hand, and thy heart, and thy brave

cheer,

And God's grace fructify through thee to all. The least flower, with a brimming cup may stand, And share its dew-drop with another near.

10

EMPLOYMENT.

IF as a flower doth spread and die,
Thou wouldst extend to me some good,
Before I were by frost's extremity
Nipt in the bud,

The sweetness and the praise were thine, But the extension and the room,

Which in thy garland I should fill, were mine At thy great doom.

For as thou dost impart thy grace,
The greater shall our glory be:
The measure of our joys is in this place,
The stuff with thee.

Let me not languish then, and spend
A life as barren to thy praise

As is the dust to which that life doth tend,
But with delays.