Was thy garden nipped with the midnight frost, "No pleasant garden toils were mine, How camest thou on the judgment seat, 'T is a lonely and lofty seat for thee, "I climbed on the judgment seat myself; For it grieved me to see the children around, "They wasted the Master's precious seed, They wasted the precious hours; They trained not the vines, nor gathered the fruit, And what didst thou on the judgment seat, "Nay, that grieved me more; I called and I cried, But they left me there forlorn; My voice was weak, and they heeded not, Ah! the judgment seat was not for thee, And the eyes which fix the praise and the blame, The voice that shall sound there at eve, sweetheart, It will hush the earth, and hush the hearts, 'Should I see the Master's treasures lost, And not lift my voice (be it as weak as it may), Wait till the evening falls, sweetheart, Wait till the evening falls; The Master is near and knoweth all, But how fared thy garden plot, sweetheart, "Nay! that is saddest of all to me, That is saddest of all! My vines are trailing, my roses are parched, Go back to thy garden plot, sweetheart, And bind thy lilies, and train thy vines, Go make thy garden fair as thou canst, Perchance he whose plot is next to thine, And the next shall copy his, sweetheart, Then shall thy joy be full, sweetheart, In the Master's voice of praise to all, In a look of his own for thee. By the Author of the "Cotta Family." Wanted, a Minister's Wife. At length we have settled a pastor: For the "smartest" man in the land, In a fit of desperation We took the nearest at hand. And really, he answers nicely To "fill up the gap," you know, To " run the machine," and "bring up arrears," And make things generally go; He has a few little failings, His sermons are common-place quite, But his manner is very charming, And his teeth are perfectly white. And so, of all the "dear people," Not one in a hundred complains, Are so much better than brains. Wanted, a perfect lady, Delicate, gentle, refined, With every beauty of person, And every endowment of mind; Fitted by early culture To move in fashionable life Please notice our advertisement: "Wanted," etc. Wanted, a thoroughbred worker, Who well to her household looks; (Shall we see our money wasted By extravagant Irish cooks?) Ye ken, dear bairn, that we maun part, Sa we 'll be ready for his dart We'll keep a' right and gude wi' in, Deal just wi' a' the prize we 'll win Ye ken there's ane wha 's just and wise, And there shall stay; Being well prepared, we 'll gain the prize, When he who made a' things just right Be it morn, or noon, or e'en or night, We 'll be prepared to tak' our flight X Y. Z |