Never shall my heart be burthened With its ancient woe and fears; I can drive them from my presence, I can check these foolish tears.

Back, ye Phantoms; leave, oh leave me To a new and happy lot; Speak no more of things departed; Leave me--for I know ye not.

Can it be that 'mid my gladness I must ever hear you wail, Of the grief that wrung my spirit, And that made my cheek so pale?

Joy is mine; but your sad voices Murmur ever in mine ear: Vain is all the Future's promise, While the dreary Past is here.

Vain, oh worse than vain, the Visions That my heart, my life would fill, If the Past's relentless phantoms Call upon me still!

VERSE: THANKFULNESS

My G.o.d, I thank Thee who hast made The Earth so bright; So full of splendour and of joy, Beauty and light; So many glorious things are here, n.o.ble and right!

I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made Joy to abound; So many gentle thoughts and deeds Circling us round, That in the darkest spot of Earth Some love is found.

I thank Thee more that all our joy Is touched with pain; That shadows fall on brightest hours; That thorns remain; So that Earth's bliss may be our guide, And not our chain.

For Thou who knowest, Lord, how soon Our weak heart clings, Hast given us joys, tender and true, Yet all with wings, So that we see, gleaming on high, Diviner things!

I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept The best in store; We have enough, yet not too much To long for more: A yearning for a deeper peace, Not known before.

I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls, Though amply blest, Can never find, although they seek, A perfect rest-- Nor ever shall, until they lean On Jesus' breast!

VERSE: HOME-SICKNESS

Where I am, the halls are gilded, Stored with pictures bright and rare; Strains of deep melodious music Float upon the perfumed air:- Nothing stirs the dreary silence Save the melancholy sea, Near the poor and humble cottage, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, the sun is shining, And the purple windows glow, Till their rich armorial shadows Stain the marble floor below:- Faded Autumn leaves are trembling, On the withered jasmine tree, Creeping round the little cas.e.m.e.nt, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, the days are pa.s.sing O'er a pathway strewn with flowers; Song and joy and starry pleasures Crown the happy smiling hours:- Slowly, heavily, and sadly, Time with weary wings must flee, Marked by pain, and toil, and sorrow, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, the great and n.o.ble Tell me of renown and fame, And the red wine sparkles highest, To do honour to my name:- Far away a place is vacant, By a humble hearth, for me, Dying embers dimly show it, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, are glorious dreaminess, Science, genius, art divine; And the great minds whom all honour Interchange their thoughts with mine:- A few simple hearts are waiting, Longing, wearying, for me, Far away where tears are falling, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, all think me happy, For so well I play my part, None can guess, who smile around me, How far distant is my heart-- Far away, in a poor cottage, Listening to the dreary sea, Where the treasures of my life are, Where I fain would be!

VERSE: WISHES

All the fluttering wishes Caged within thy heart Beat their wings against it, Longing to depart, Till they shake their prison With their wounded cry; Open wide thy heart to-day, And let the captives fly.

Let them first fly upward Through the starry air, Till you almost lose them, For their home is there; Then, with outspread pinions, Circling round and round, Wing their way, wherever Want and woe are found.

Where the weary st.i.tcher Toils for daily bread; Where the lonely watcher Watches by her dead; Where with thin weak fingers, Toiling at the loom, Stand the little children, Blighted ere they bloom.

Where, by darkness blinded, Groping for the light, With distorted conscience Men do wrong for right; Where, in the cold shadow, By smooth pleasure thrown, Human hearts by hundreds Harden into stone.

Where on dusty highways, With faint heart and slow, Cursing the glad sunlight, Hungry outcasts go: Where all mirth is silenced, And the hearth is chill, For one place is empty, And one voice is still.

Some hearts will be lighter While your captives roam For their tender singing, Then recal them home; When the sunny hours Into night depart, Softly they will nestle In a quiet heart.

VERSE: THE PEACE OF G.o.d

We ask for Peace, oh Lord!

Thy children ask Thy Peace; Not what the world calls rest, That toil and care should cease, That through bright sunny hours Calm Life should fleet away, And tranquil night should fade In smiling day;-- It is not for such Peace that we would pray.

We ask for Peace, oh Lord!

Yet not to stand secure, Girt round with iron Pride, Contented to endure: Crushing the gentle strings That human hearts should know, Untouched by others' joy Or others' woe;-- Thou, oh dear Lord, wilt never teach us so.

We ask Thy Peace, oh Lord!

Through storm, and fear, and strife, To light and guide us on, Through a long struggling life: While no success or gain Shall cheer the desperate fight, Or nerve, what the world calls, Our wasted might:- Yet pressing through the darkness to the light.

It is Thine own, oh Lord, Who toil while others sleep; Who sow with loving care What other hands shall reap: They lean on Thee entranced, In calm and perfect rest: Give us that Peace, oh Lord, Divine and blest, Thou keepest for those hearts who love Thee best.

VERSE: LIFE IN DEATH AND DEATH IN LIFE

I.

If the dread day that calls thee hence, Through a red mist of fear should loom, (Closing in deadliest night and gloom Long hours of aching dumb suspense,) And leave me to my lonely doom.

I think, beloved, I could see In thy dear eyes the loving light Glaze into vacancy and night, And still say, "G.o.d is good to me, And all that He decrees is right."

That, watching thy slow struggling breath, And answering each imperfect sign, I still could pray thy prayer and mine, And tell thee, dear, though this was death, That G.o.d was love, and love divine.

Could hold thee in my arms, and lay Upon my heart thy weary head, And meet thy last smile ere it fled; Then hear, as in a dream, one say, "Now all is over,--she is dead."

Could smooth thy garments with fond care, And cross thy hands upon thy breast, And kiss thine eyelids down to rest, And yet say no word of despair, But, through my sobbing, "It is best."