I heard the joy of the reapers’ song, As they gathered golden grain; Then wearily turned unto my task, With a lonely sense of pain. Sadly I turned from the sun’s fierce glare, And sought the quiet shade, And over my dim and weary eyes Sleep’s peaceful fingers strayed. I dreamed I joined with a restless throng, Eager for pleasure and gain; But ever and anon a stumbler fell, And uttered a cry of pain. But the eager crowd still hurried on, Too busy to pause or heed, When a voice rang sadly through my soul, You must staunch these wounds that bleed. My hands were weak, but I reached them out To feebler ones than mine, And over the shadows of my life Stole the light of a peace divine. Oh! then my task was a sacred thing, How precious it grew in my eyes! ’Twas mine to gather the bruised grain For the “Lord of Paradise.” And when the reapers shall lay their grain On the floors of golden light, I feel that mine with its broken sheaves Shall be precious in His sight. Though thorns may often pierce my feet, And the shadows still abide, The mists will vanish before His smile, There will be light at eventide. RENEWAL OF STRENGTH. The prison-house in which I live Is falling to decay, But God renews my spirit’s strength, Within these walls of clay. For me a dimness slowly creeps Around earth’s fairest light, But heaven grows clearer to my view, And fairer to my sight. It may be earth’s sweet harmonies Are duller to my ear, But music from my Father’s house Begins to float more near. Then let the pillars of my home Crumble and fall away; Lo, God’s dear love within my soul Renews it day by day. JAMIE’S PUZZLE. There was grief within our household Because of a vacant chair. Our mother, so loved and precious, No longer was sitting there. Our hearts grew heavy with sorrow, Our eyes with tears were blind, And little Jamie was wondering, Why we were left behind.