But, glancing upward, in my deep distress-- Myself so small an atom of my race-- I saw, above the dreadful hovels shining, A single star. It seemed, my pain divining, To answer from illimitable s.p.a.ce, And with its rays to sanctify and bless.

Witness it bore of Law by which worlds move, Light of the Soul, the Everlasting Mind, Which--in its compa.s.s Earth and Heaven holding-- Is ever like some shining scroll unfolding, And will unfold with Time, till all mankind Shall read Life's one solution, perfect Love.

THE MESSAGE OF THE PINES.

Tall Southern pines, with hearts of mystic throbbing, Stretch your restless, weary boughs across the sunset sky, Dark Southern pines, whose souls are ever sobbing, I would roam through these dim aisles and learn the music of your sigh.

Hark! the wail of hearts that can not weep!

Hush! the sigh of souls that long to sleep!

Tall Southern pines, I seek these silent places Only in my memory--a memory beside me moves.

Dark Southern pines, I love your solemn s.p.a.ces, And there in spirit walk, and with her spirit seek the quiet groves.

Hark! the moan of human hearts that yearn!

Hush! the plaint of dreams that would return!

Tall Southern pines, I wrong you in my sorrow.

Harps divine, you chant a dream not pa.s.sed, but yet to come!

Our two souls shall walk together, on some perfect morrow, And through the years remain together, when your voices all are dumb.

Hark! her spirit whispers in the grove!

Hush! I feel the presence of my Love!

THE LOST SUNBEAM.

Through fairy green of willows old, Aslant the stately, virgin, cold Form of the sycamore, Where poplars laugh, where beeches pray, Where breezes sigh, where streamlets sing, And birds are ever caroling, One morn, I saw a sunbeam stray; This single, holy, radiant ray On the wide earth had lost its way, Escaped through Heaven's half-open door.

"Where will the sunbeam find its home?"

I idly wondered. "Will it roam Until it makes its nest Perhaps in some dear baby's hair?"

But no! a baby's tresses shine With their own radiance divine-- The sun of Heaven is always there.

Or would it find a secret lair In flowery heart? Nay, in that rare, Deep cell, G.o.d's sun long found its rest.

So the lone sunbeam strays at will, And longs for Heaven and rest, until Into the silent grove, An old man, crippled by disease, Creeps down the path, with weary eyes.

That are too worn to seek the skies, With palsied limbs and shaking knees, And fixed, dull stare, that only sees The stony ground. Oh! stately trees!

Shade this drear form with arms of love!

As he pursues his lonely way Through the green wood, the shining ray Straightway appears to dart To that bent form, and seems to light A glory in the thin white hair; Then, restless still, it makes its lair In the sad eyes, so dim of sight, And, smiling through the sombre night, It deeper sinks, a radiance bright, And nestles in the old man's heart.

HERITAGE.

(To my Mother.)

Everything beautiful centered in you!

All that is fair, in your spirit, my Sweet, From the depths of the sea to the height of the blue, Lies now at my feet.

They are gems, they are gems you have scattered so free, From your zenith of thought they have fallen like rain, From the height of your love they descended to me, In the midst of my pain!

Thoughts like the ocean and dreams like the morn, Pure and unsullied, most holy and true; Dear Love, in my being there shines a new dawn, Whose light is from you!