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Oh, lift the old-time light within thine eyes!

Set free the pristine passion from thy tongue!
Strength grows with burdens; make an end of

sighs.

Let thy thoughts soar again their mates among,
And, as yon oriole's eager matins rise,

Abroad once more be thy strong anthem flung!
THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON.

SUNSET.

THE children gather at the fence

(The gate swings outward to the west)
And watch the purple hills, from whence
The father comes for food and rest.
Their lengthened shadows fall behind;
Their faces glow the while they wait
To bid him welcome, when they find
Their father coming to the gate.

We turn away when sunset fills

Our valleys with a glory sweet,

And on the green immortal hills

We catch the sound of coming feet;
Our lengthened shadows fall before;
Our faces darken as we wait.
Ah, foolish children, who deplore
Their Father coming to the gate!

MARY СHАСЕ РЕСКНАМ.

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THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENCX

TILDEN FOUNDATIONS

THE GREAT ASSURance.

49

THE GREAT ASSURANCE.

WHAT,

my

A Selection from "Saul."

soul? see thus far and no farther? when doors great and small,

Nine-and-ninety, flew ope at our touch, should the hundredth appall?

In the least things have faith, yet distrust in the greatest of all?

Do I find love so full in my nature, God's ultimate gift, That I doubt his own love can compete with it? here, the parts shift?

Here, the creature surpass the Creator, the end, what Began?

Would I fain in my impotent yearning do all for this

man,

And dare doubt He alone shall not help him, who yet alone can?

Would it ever have entered my mind, the bare will, much less power,

To bestow on this Saul what I sang of, the marvellous

dower

Of the life he was gifted and filled with? to make such

a soul,

Such a body, and then such an earth for insphering the whole?

And doth it not enter my mind (as my warm tears

attest)

These good things being given, to go on, and give one more, the best?

Ay, to save and redeem and restore him, maintain at

the height

This perfection, succeed with life's dayspring, death's minute of night?

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I believe it! 't is thou, God, that givest, 't is I who

receive:

In the first is the last, in thy will is my power to believe.

All's one gift: thou canst grant it, moreover, as prompt to my prayer

As I breathe out this breath, as I open these arms to

the air.

ROBERT BROWNING.

"THE THINGS THAT ARE MORE
EXCELLENT."

AS we wax older on this earth,

Till many a toy that charmed us seems
Emptied of beauty, stripped of worth,
And mean as dust and dead as dreams,
For gauds that perished, shows that passed,
Some recompense the Fates have sent:
Thrice lovelier shine the things that last,
The things that are more excellent.

Naught nobler is than to be free;

The stars of heaven are free because

In amplitude of liberty

Their joy is to obey the laws.

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