"Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child.

"They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care,

And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear."

And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love;
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,

The Reaper came that day ;

'T was an angel visited the green earth, And took the flowers away.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELlow.

Yet somewhere, I know, on the unseen shore, They watch, and beckon, and wait for me.

And I sit and think, when the sunset's gold
Is flushing river and hill and shore,

I shall one day stand by the water cold,

And list for the sound of the boatman's oar; I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail, I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand,

I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale,
To the better shore of the spirit land.

I shall know the loved who have gone before,
And joyfully sweet will the meeting be,
When over the river, the peaceful river,
The angel of death shall carry me.

NANCY WOODBURY PRIEST.

THE TWO WAITINGS.

OVER THE RIVER.

OVER the river they beckon to me,

Loved ones who 've crossed to the farther side, The gleam of their snowy robes I see,

But their voices are lost in the dashing tide. There's one with ringlets of sunny gold,

And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue; He crossed in the twilight gray and cold,

And the pale mist hid him from mortal view. We saw not the angels who met him there, The gates of the city we could not see : Over the river, over the river,

My brother stands waiting to welcome me.

I.

DEAR hearts, you were waiting a year ago
For the glory to be revealed;
You were wondering deeply, with bated breath,
What treasure the days concealed.

O, would it be this, or would it be that? Would it be girl or boy?

Would it look like father or mother most? And what should you do for joy?

And then, one day, when the time was full,
And the spring was coming fast,
The trembling veil of the body was rent,
And you saw your baby at last.

Was it or not what you had dreamed?
It was, and yet it was not;
But O, it was better a thousand times
Than ever you wished or thought.

II.

And now, dear hearts, you are waiting again,
While the spring is coming fast;

For the baby that was a future dream
Is now a dream of the past:

A dream of sunshine, and all that 's sweet ; Of all that is pure and bright;

Of eyes that were blue as the sky by day, And as soft as the stars by night.

You are waiting again for the fullness of time,
And the glory to be revealed;
You are wondering deeply with aching hearts
What treasure is now concealed.

For Charlie's sake I will arise;

I will anoint me where he lies,
And change my raiment, and go in
To the Lord's house, and leave my sin
Without, and seat me at his board,
Eat, and be glad, and praise the Lord.
For wherefore should I fast and weep,
And sullen moods of mourning keep?
I cannot bring him back, nor he,
For any calling, come to me.
The bond the angel Death did sign,
God sealed for Charlie's sake, and mine.
JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER.

He's going blind, as I said,

My old eyes can't bear, boys,

To see him in the shed;

The cow's dry and spare, boys,
She's neither here nor there, boys,
I doubt she's badly bred ;
Stop the mill to-morn, boys,
There'll be no more corn, boys,
Neither white nor red;
There's no sign of grass, boys,

You may sell the goat and the ass, boys,

The land 's not what it was, boys,

And the beasts must be fed :

You may turn Peg away, boys,

You may pay off old Ned,

We've had a dull day, boys,

And Tommy's dead.

Take her away from me, boys, As she lay on her death-bed, The bones of her thin face, boys, As she lay on her death-bed ! I don't know how it be, boys, When all's done and said, But I see her looking at me, boys, Wherever I turn my head; Out of the big oak-tree, boys, Out of the garden-bed,

And the lily as pale as she, boys, And the rose that used to be red.

There's something not right, boys,
But I think it's not in my head,
I've kept my precious sight, boys,
The Lord be hallowed!
Outside and in

The ground is cold to my tread,
The hills are wizen and thin,
The sky is shriveled and shred,
The hedges down by the loan

I can count them bone by bone,
The leaves are open and spread,
But I see the teeth of the land,

And hands like a dead man's hand,
And the eyes of a dead man's head.

There's nothing but cinders and sand,
The rat and the mouse have fed,
And the summer's empty and cold;
Over valley and wold
Wherever I turn my head

There's a mildew and a mold,
The sun's going out overhead,
And I'm very old,

And Tommy's dead.

What am I staying for, boys,
You're all born and bred,
'Tis fifty years and more, boys,
Since wife and I were wed,

And she's gone before, boys,
And Tommy's dead.

She was always sweet, boys,

Upon his curly head,

She knew she'd never see 't, boys,

And she stole off to bed;

I've been sitting up alone, boys,

For he'd come home, he said,

But it's time I was gone, boys, For Tommy's dead.

Put the shutters up, boys, Bring out the beer and bread, Make haste and sup, boys,

For my eyes are heavy as lead;