THE OLD TRYSTING PLACE.

"Die erste Liebe ist die beste."

Through the green boughs the golden sunshine falling Glints on the glades and lonely woodland bowers; Bird answers bird, through the wide woodlands calling, In the deep hush of the calm summer hours.

The limpid river winding through the meadows, Laughing and sparkling in the sunny noon, Takes peaceful tones here, 'neath the beeches' shadows, And sings sweet idylls in low, fitful tune.

Songs of the olden days, of hopes and pleasures, Songs of the love of youth's glad morning times, That sigh around our path like dream-world treasures, Soothing as music of the vesper chimes.

The rustic bridge, the leaves' soft shadows playing Down in the water-depths, and from away 'Mong the blue hills, come mingled echoes straying, The pleasant sounds that fill the summer day.

Aburnum's gold, and quivering beech-leaves blending, Sway, dancing in the breezes, to and fro; Wild hyacinths, their blue heads lowly bending, Listen the secrets of the winds to know.

Oh! quaint old trysting-place! oh! lights and shadows, And sounds that haunt the dreams of Life's glad May!

Dreams withered like the May-flowers in the meadows Or roses of the Junes long pa.s.sed away.

Here, oft in dreams, I see my own true maiden, The pure flower-face, the rippling golden hair; Ah! many years have roll'd past, sorrow-laden, Since blue-eyed Edmee waited for me there!

Ah! murmuring brook, with waving willow fringes, Ah! woodland picture, all your charmed glow Is touched and changed by Truth's own sober tinges, Tints that youth's eager eyes see not, nor know.

Fraught with these gleams of old-time faith and feeling, Fraught with the memory of "what might have been,"

A still, small voice says all is G.o.d's wise dealing, Behind the clouds is brightness yet unseen.

Young love and hope in all their matchless glory, Smile on our morning-time, then fade away; Teaching unwilling hearts the sad, true story, No lasting joy is here, all knows decay.

"Die erste Liebe ist die beste," leaving A holy radiance round the scenes we knew; A potent power to point lone spirits, grieving, To deathless Love whose charms are ever new.

It ever shows, "in part," in sweet tuition, What we shall know when we have gained the light, When all our highest hopes fade in fruition, Where the Eternal Summer beameth bright.

THY WORD IS A LIGHT UNTO MY FEET.

Oh! Light of Lights! dark, dark is earth's long way, Cloud upon cloud looms o'er the path I stray; Far-off and dim the heavenly Land appears, Through the thick mist of weak distrust--and fears.

Helpless, I seek Thy Word, and hear Thy voice, That bids me always in the Lord rejoice; Pointing from doubts within, and this world's wile To peace and victory, in "a little while."

Oh! Saviour, Friend, how dark is life's rough path.

What gloom and sorrow haunts this Vale of Death; Subtle the way, beset with many a snare And hidden evils lurking everywhere.

But in this Light that shows my love, I see, This path Thou'st trod, and borne these griefs, for me, "Fear not!" I hear in tones of tenderest love "'Tis in thy weakness that my strength I prove."

The world's temptations rage on life's wild sea, Drifting the fragile bark I steer to Thee, But safe I pa.s.s the rocks and angry waves, Helped by Thy mighty arm that shields and saves.

And still above the wind's and water's roar A calm voice hails me from the distant sh.o.r.e, "Cast all your care undoubtingly on Me, Fully and freely, for I care for thee."

When twilight shades fall round me, dim and grey, All those I love the most are far away, I look to Thee, and dry my willful tears-- With love like Thine, I dread no lonely years.

If 'tis Thy will, let bitter partings come, Sweet shall the meetings be in yonder Home; While here I have Thy love that cannot die, And could I feel alone when Thou art nigh?

Weary with waiting for Thy promised rest, Dismayed with doubts, with sinfulness distressed; "Oh! let Thy kingdom come!" I pray "that I May join the glad new song they sing on high;"

Then thy sweet words bring patience, "I prepare For thee an heavenly mansion, bright and fair, That where I am Thou mayest with Me abide, And taste full joy for ever by My side."

I bless thee, Saviour, for this word of life, This light to guide me safe through every strife, This lantern o'er my pathway shining clear To show the dangers, and the Helper near.

I love to see it beaming, day by day, Thine own bright smile, that lights the darksome way; "Led by Thy counsel," oh! what joy to be "Received in glory," Lord, at last by Thee.

MEMORIES.

"In der Weit, weit, Aus der Einsamkeit, Wollen sie Dich locken."--FAUST.

When the glad, bright days of our youth's fresh prime, Shall have pa.s.s'd, as a dream that at morning dies; When the long blank stretch of the coming time Like a desolate desert before us lies, Dreary and cheerless, 'neath sunless skies.

When young, sweet love, with her luring smile, The mystic charm-light of halcyon hours, Shall no more with her witch'ry our souls beguile, As the leaves grow seer on Life's fading bowers, And the blushes are pale on its withering flowers.

When the strains we loved in the days of yore No more with their sweetness our heart's-chords thrill, When Hope's roseate meteors glow no more, Like the summer sunrise o'er vale and hill, That our dreamings with radiance were wont to fill.

When these are gone, shall the lone heart know No solace the solitude's gloom to cheer?

Shall no stray beams lighten the spirit's woe As it moans "alone!" e'en when crowds are near?

Must _all_ be lost that was once so dear?

Ah, no! Though Time is a thief, I ween, Stealing youth's best wealth as the swift years go, Still the memories of pleasures which once have been-- The dreams of the beautiful "Long ago,"

Are our own to keep, and shall aye be so!

"THE KING IS DEAD."

Hush! There's a solemn pause, And looks of fear!

You ask--Whence comes the cause?

Grim Death is here!

Oh! well thou answerest, well-- 'Tis fairly said; Our hearts thrill to the knell, "The King is dead!"

Dead! And the bell swings, swings On in its deep, sad tone; We own the King of Kings Is King alone!

We crown our Kings, we place Bay leaves on victors' brow, But all our mortal race Can boast is _now._

The body lay in state, All fair to mortal eye; The soul's eternal fate-- Oh! Death, thy mystery!