1. ALL men are equal in their birth,
Heirs of the earth and skies;
All men are equal when that earth
Fades from their dying eyes.

2. God meets the throngs who pay their vows
In courts that hands have made,
And hears the worshiper who bows
Beneath the plantain shade.

3. O, let man hasten to restore

To all their rights of love;

In power and wealth exult no more;
In wisdom lowly move.

4. Ye great, renounce your earth-born pride,
Ye low, your shame and fear;
Live, as ye worship, side by side;
Your brotherhood revere.

1061. C. M.

1. SCORN not the slightest word or deed, Nor deem it void of power;

337

There's fruit in each wind-wafted seed,
That waits its natal hour.

2. A whispered word may touch the heart, And call it back to life;

A look of love bid sin depart,
And still unholy strife.

3. No act falls fruitless, none can tell
How vast its power may be,
Nor what results infolded dwell
Within it silently.

4. Work on, despair not, bring thy mite, Nor care how small it be,

God is with all that serve the right,
The holy, true, and free.

1062. C. M.

1. THINK gently of the erring one!
O, let us not forget,
However darkly stained by sin,
He is our brother yet!

2. Heir of the same inheritance,
Child of the self-same God,
He hath but stumbled in the path
We have in weakness trod.

3. Speak gently to the erring ones!
We yet may lead them back,
With holy words, and tones of love,
From misery's thorny track.

4. Forget not, brother, thou hast sinned, And sinful yet may'st be;

Deal gently with the erring heart,
As God hath dealt with thee.

1063. C. M.

MISS FLETCHER.

1. LORD, lead the way the Saviour went,
By lane and cell obscure,

And let our treasures still be spent,
Like His, upon the poor.

2. Like Him, through scenes of deep distress,
Who bore the world's sad weight,
We, in their gloomy loneliness,
Would seek the desolate.

3. For Thou hast placed us side by side
In this wide world of ill;

And that Thy followers may be tried,
The poor are with us still.

4. Small are the offerings we can make;
Yet Thou hast taught us, Lord,
If given for the Saviour's sake,
They lose not their reward.

CROSWELL.

DORT. 6s & 4s.

L. MASON.

34

9:3

deep and strong beseeching,

4

Fine.

F

S

D. C. al Segno.

1066. 8s, 7s & 5s.

1. HAST thou, 'midst life's empty noises,
Heard the solemn steps of time?
And the low, mysterious voices
Of another clime?

2. Early hath life's mighty question
Thrilled within thy heart of youth,
With a deep and strong beseeching-
What, and where is truth?

3. Not to ease and aimless quiet
Doth the inward answer tend;
But to works of love and duty,
As our being's end

4. Earnest toil, and strong endeavor
Of a spirit which within
Wrestles with familiar evil,
And besetting sin;

5. And without, with tireless vigor,
Steady heart and purpose strong,
In the power of truth assaileth
Every form of wrong.

1067. 8s & 5s.

WHITTIER.

1. EVERY day hath toil and trouble, Every heart hath care;

Meekly bear thine own full measure,

And thy brother's share.

Fear not, shrink not, though the burden

Heavy to thee prove;

God shall fill thy mouth with gladness,
And thy heart with love.

1. I ASK not now for gold to gild,
With mocking shine, an aching frame;
The yearning of the mind is stilled--
I ask not now for fame.

2. But, bowed in lowliness of mind,
I make my humble wishes known;
I only ask a will resigned,

O Father, to Thine own.

3. In vain I task my aching brain,
In vain the sage's thoughts I scan;
I only feel how weak I am,

How poor and blind is man.
4. And now my spirit sighs for home,
And longs for light whereby to see;
And, like a weary child would come,

O Father, unto Thee. WHITTIER

1. CLOSE Softly, fondly, while ye weep, His eyes, that death may seem like sleep, And fold his hands in sign of rest, His waxen hands, across his breast. 2. And make his grave where violets hide, Where star-flowers strew the rivulet's side, And blue-birds in the misty spring Of cloudless skies and summer sing. 3. But we shall mourn him long, and miss His ready smile, his ready kiss, The prattle of his little feet, Sweet frowns and stammered phrases sweet;

4. And graver looks, serene and high,
A light of heaven in that young eye,
All these shall haunt us till the heart
Shall ache and ache-and tears will start.

5. But not his nobler part shall dwell
A prisoner in this narrow cell;
For he, whom now we hide from men
In the dark ground, shall live again;

6. Shall break these clods, a form of light,
With nobler mien and purer sight,
And in the eternal glory stand,
Highest and nearest God's right hand.

1072. L. M.

BRYANT.

1. As the sweet flower that scents the morn,
But withers in the rising day,
Thus lovely was this infant's dawn,
Thus swiftly fled its life away.

2. It died ere its expanding soul

Had ever burnt with wrong desires,
Had ever spurned at Heaven's control,
Or ever quenched its sacred fires.

3. Yet the sad hour that took the boy
Perhaps has spared a heavier doom-
Snatched him from scenes of guilty joy,
Or from the pangs of ills to come.

1073. (Part 1.) L. M.

1. Of all the thoughts of God, that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,

Along the Psalmist's music deep-
Now tell me if that any is,

For gift or grace surpassing this— "He giveth His beloved sleep?"

2. His dews drop mutely on the hillHis cloud above it saileth stillThough on its slope men toil and reap; More softly than the dew is shed, Or cloud is floated overhead, "He giveth His beloved sleep."

3. And friends, dear friends! when it shall be, That this low breath is gone from meWhen round my bier ye come to weep; Let one, most loving of you all, Say "Not a tear must o'er her fall," "He giveth His beloved sleep.

MRS. BROWNING.

1074. (Part 2.) L. M.

1. WHAT would we give to our beloved?
The hero's heart to be unmoved-

The poet's star-tuned harp to sweep—
The senate's shout to patriot vows-
The monarch's crown to light the brows?
"He giveth His beloved sleep."

2. "Sleep soft, beloved!" we sometimes say, But have no power to charm away

Sad dreams that through the eyelids

creep;

But never doleful dream again
Shall break their happy slumber, when
"He giveth His beloved sleep."

3. O earth, so full of dreary noise!
O men, with wailing in your voice!
O delved gold, the wailer's heap!
O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall!
God makes a silence through you all,
And giveth His beloved sleep!

4. Yea! men may wonder while they scanA living, thinking, feeling man

In such a rest his heart to keep!
But angels say-and through the word,
I ween, their blessed smile is heard-
"He giveth His beloved sleep."

MRS. BROWNING.

1075. L. M.

1. THE mourners came, at break of day,
Unto the garden sepulcher,
With saddened hearts, to weep and pray
For him, the loved one, buried there.