The Future Life.

Fear not to build thy aerie in the heights Where golden splendors lay,

And trust thyself unto thine inmost soul In simple faith alway;

And God will make divinely real

The highest form of thine ideal.

A. P.

The Future Life.

Longings and Desires.

H, have you not a life within

That asks another life

For its unfolding?

Hast thou not felt thy soul to swell

And press against the limiting earth?

Hast never thirsted for a perfect truth?

Hast never longed to meet with what should fill Full to its large desire, thy sense of praise?

SARAH FLOWER ADAMS.

TAVE we not all, amid life's petty strife,

H

Some purer ideal of a nobler life

That once seemed possible?

Did we not hear the flutter of its wings,
And feel it near, and just within our reach?

But still our place is kept, and it will wait
Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.

No star is lost we once have seen;

We always may be what we might have been;
The good, though only thought, has life and breath;
God's life can always be redeemed from death;

And evil in its nature is decay,

And any hour can blot it all away.

The hopes, that lost on some far distance seem, May be the truer life,

And this the dream.

ים

F all the myriad moods of mind

That through the soul come thronging, Which one was e'er so dear, so kind,

So beautiful as longing?

The thing we long for, that we are
For one transcendent moment,
Before the present, poor and bare,
Can make its sneering comment.

Still, through our paltry stir and strife,
Glows down the wished ideal,
And longing molds in clay what life
Carves in the marble real.

To let the new life in, we know

Desire must ope the portal;
Perhaps the longing to be so

Helps make the soul immortal.

Longing is God's fresh heavenward will;

With our poor earthward striving,

We quench it that we may be still,
Content with merely living.

But would we learn that heart's full scope
Which we are hourly wronging,