Day unto day uttereth speech, And night unto night sheweth knowledge. Where their voice is not heard. Their line is gone out through all the earth, In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun, As a strong man to run a race. His going forth is from the end of the heaven, And his circuit unto the ends of it: And there is nothing hid from the heat thereof. Who can understand his errors? Cleanse thou me from secret faults. Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins; Let them not have dominion over me: Then shall I be upright, and I shall be innocent From the great transgression. Let the words of my mouth, And the meditations of my heart, Be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer. MY WAGE BY JESSIE B. RITTEN HOUSE I bargained with Life for a penny, However I begged at evening For Life is a just employer, I worked for a menial's hire, That any wage I had asked of Life, DAYS BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day AFTER BLENHEIM BY ROBERT SOUTHEY It was a summer evening, And by him sported on the green She saw her brother Peterkin In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh 'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory. "I find them in the garden, And often when I go to plow The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men," said he, "Were slain in that great victory." "Now tell us what 'twas all about," Young Peterkin he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; "Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for." "It was the English," Kaspar cried, "My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly: So with his wife and child he fled, "With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide, And many a childing mother then And newborn baby died: But things like that, you know, must be At every famous victory. "They say it was a shocking sight For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun: But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. "Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won And our good Prince Eugene"; "Why 'twas a very wicked thing!" Said little Wilhelmine; “Nay . . . nay . . . my little girl," quoth he, "It was a famous victory. "And every body praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." "Why that I cannot tell," said he, TO A STARING BABY IN A PERAMBULATOR BY NANCY BYRD TURNER Child, I surrender-and hereby declare Of fond delusions, and a scheme or two, |