She is not dead,-the child of our affection,--
But gone unto that school

Where she no longer needs our poor protection,
And Christ Himself doth rule.

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion,
By guardian angels led,

Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution,
She lives, whom we call dead.

Day after day we think what she is doing,
In those bright realms of air:

Year after year, her tender steps pursuing,

Behold her grown more fair.

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken

The bond which Nature gives,

Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken, May reach her where she lives.

Not as a child shall we again behold her;
For when with raptures wild

In our embraces we again enfold her,

She will not be a child;

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion,
Clothed with celestial grace;

And beautiful with all the soul's expansion,
Shall we behold her face.

RESIGNATION.

And though at times, impetuous with emotion

And anguish long suppressed,

The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean
That cannot be at rest,--

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling

We may not wholly stay:

By silence sanctifying, not concealing,

The grief that must have way.

LONGFELLOW.

169

THE WIDOW'S MITE.

THE widow had but only one,
A puny and decrepit son;
Yet, day and night,

Though fretful oft, and weak, and small,
A loving child, he was her all-
The Widow's Mite.

The widow's might,-yes! so sustain'd,
She battled onward, nor complain'd
When friends were fewer;

And, cheerful at her daily care,
A little crutch upon the stair
Was music to her.

I saw her then; and now I see
Though cheerful and resign'd, still she
Has sorrow'd much:

She has-HE gave it tenderly-
Much faith-and, carefully laid by,

A little crutch.

LOCKER.

冷

THE LENT JEWELS.

171

THE LENT JEWELS.

A JEWISH TALE.

IN schools of wisdom all the day was spent:
His steps at eve the Rabbi homeward bent,
With homeward thoughts, which dwelt upon the wife
And two fair children who consoled his life.
She, meeting at the threshold, led him in,
And with these words preventing, did begin:
"Ever rejoicing at your wished return,

Yet am I most so now; for since this morn
I have been much perplexed and sorely tried
Upon one point, which you shall now decide.
Some years ago, a friend into my care
Some jewels gave-rich, precious gems they were;
But, having given them in my charge, this friend
Did afterward nor come for them, nor send,
But left them in my keeping for so long,
That now it almost seems to me a wrong
That he should suddenly arrive to-day

To take those jewels, which he left, away.
What think you? Shall I freely yield them back,
And with no murmuring ?-so henceforth to lack
Those gems myself, which I had learned to see
Almost as mine for ever, mine in fee?"

R

"What question can be here? Your own true heart Must needs advise you of the only part.

That may be claimed again which was but lent,

And should be yielded with no discontent;

Nor surely can we find herein a wrong-
That it was left us to enjoy it long."

Good is the word!" she answered;
And evermore, that it is good allow!"
And, rising, to an inner chamber led,

may we now,

And there she showed him, stretched upon one bed,
Two children pale; and he the jewels knew,
Which God had lent him, and resumed anew.

ARCHBISHOP TRENCH.