THE RECLUSE.

Hast seen the many-coloured bow of life,
And tasted all the sweetness that lies hid
Within a human smile? When wert thou bid
To cease sweet laughter? who dare teach that strife
In noble cause is wrong—to rend the skies
With peals of joy a sin ?—must we be still
Of full life shorn-accept or good or ill

As chance directs? Is it too much to rise
And disentangle life with thought and deed
And taste the fresh keen breezes from the sea,
And Time's slow breath make quick with many a

kiss?

Open is Nature's book that all may read

And learn how life is made both pure and free

With shade and sunshine charged alike with bliss.

SIN.

O joyous morning of the primal world!
O tenderness of hue on sky and earth,
The utterness of peace!-O sea impearled
With first and holiest light, a lustrous birth!
O final flower of perfect nature thou

Our pure sweet Eve, bound round about with love

So that the universe seems finished now.

Lo there! she feels the odorous gales which move
In sweetest cadence flower and fruit and leaf,
Until there comes a whispering, and then
One careless, faithless thought, and unbelief
Has fixed the iron throne of death, and heaven
And earth are with most sad oppression dim;
Till Christ at last bears gloom away with Him.

THE FURNACE.

See how the fire rude silver purifies,
The sage refiner sitting watchful by,
And tempering heat intense, judiciously
With stream of cooler air, wherein there lies
Some rare completing power: at last he tries
If in the molten mass his face may lie
As clear as crystal that receives the sky.
Refined as silver pure, a bright surprise
Unto ourselves, shall we in that far stream
That bounds the throne of God, see clearest eyes
Through tribulation's furnace safely brought,
Beam bliss supernal. O to realize

Whilst here, what there in glorious life is wrought,

When chastened pure we breathe in paradise.

YOUTH.

In meadows bright with verdure of the Spring, Through which a stream pursued its lingering way, Changeful in hue as changed the passing day,

A child plucked flowers and thus I heard him sing

With voice as clear as sky-lark on the wing:
"The jewelled year is all contained in May,

When birds are happy and the world is gay,
Then take whate'er the early seasons bring,

And weave thy crown;" and as the child drew near,
Years seemed to kiss his brow, yet left him bright,—
And fresh flowers gathering, without a tear
The others from his fingers fell, his sight
Caught many more, nor was he scared with fear

Though dark the winding river grew with night.

NATURE:

STRATFORD-ON-AVON.