AUTUMN leaves, so thickly falling,
With a soft and pleasant sound,
With your bright autumnal glory
Strewing all the garden ground;
Why forsake the stem that bore you, Through the summer sun and showers, Thus to pine, bare, withered, lonely, Through the long, dark wintry hours?
Nay then, deem us not unfaithful:
Fain would we still cling around
The loved stem, that now, rejecting,
Scornful, casts us to the ground.
But our brief, bright life is ended,
And our work on earth is o'er,
And the eyes that once we gladdened
Shall rejoice in us no more.
For a younger race, and fairer,
Soon our vacant place shall fill, While 'neath winter's snowy mantle, We are lying cold and still.
We must fade, but greener, brighter, Will the summer foliage grow, For that we are nestling closely, Fondly, round the roots below.
Thus, from death itself upspringeth A new life beyond the skies; From the fading of earth's blossoms, Richer beauty shall arise.
FATHER, I thank Thee,-now Thy heavenly peace,
The peace I've longed for all these weary days,
And prayed for, e'en with tears of agony,
Is come at last,—and I can bow my head,
And meekly say, "Father, Thy will be done."
It was a fearful struggle; all alone,
Lonely and desolate, I seemed to strive
With some dark spirit, which, e'en as I strove,
Rebellious, 'gainst my fate, still seemed to crush
My spirit down to depths of agony;
While all around seemed darkness visible,
Through which no gleam of light could ever pierce,
To shed one ray of comfort on my soul.
Still, blow on blow, upon my shrinking heart
My sorrows fell, and still, at every stroke,
My spirit rose more madly to the strife.
I deemed myself forsaken by my God,
Yet still I strove, e'en thus alone I strove;
I would not yield. But ah! how vain the struggle; Exhausted, wearied out, at length I sank,—
I sank and yielded to my misery.
Yet not in meek submission did I yield,
But sullenly, as one o'ercome by force,
Who fain would strive, but could not; thus I sank. While thus I lay,
Conquered, but not submissive, lo! I heard
Sweet whispered words of comfort, peace, and love.
I raised my wondering eyes: a ray of light
Fell on my darkened soul. Lo! 'twas my God!
'Twas His hand pressed so heavy on my soul
When through those hours of dark despair I strove,
So madly, vainly strove. Yet not in wrath,"
No, not in anger, but in deepest love,
Father, didst Thou thus weigh my spirit down;
To break all earthly ties, and make me turn
To Thee alone, for love, for strength, for all,
And make me wholly Thine. And now, O Lord,
Though darkest clouds of sorrow still remain,
Though my lip quiver, though tears dim mine eyes,
Yet I can raise them far beyond those clouds,
And gaze, in thought, upon Thine own blue sky,
Which, though I see it not, I know is there,
And feel that Thou art near. Yes, I can bow
Before Thy throne, and say, "Lord, I am Thine ;
Deal with me, Father, as Thou seest best :
Father, Thy Will be done!"
AN ACROSTIC TO A LITTLE CHILD.
E THEL Mildred, little fairy,
Tottering, with tiny feet,
Here and there, through house or garden;
Earth holds nothing half so sweet,
Little one, as that wee face.
May thy gladsome fairy footsteps
In life's pleasant paths be led,
Lingering by the sunny waters,
Drinking, from the fountain-head,
Radiant draughts of joy and pleasure.
E ver love-encompassèd,
Doubt shall ne'er that joy efface.
Pure as heaven's crystal fountains,
U nbedimmed by thought of guile,
Rich and rare be thy heart's treasures,
Cloudless aye thy sunny smile.
Heaven's protecting care attend thee,
A ngel guards through life defend thee,
S weetest of thy name and race!
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