“Bring me my children, darling wife I’m in an ardent mood; My soul lacks purer aliment, I long for other food; Bring forth my children to my gaze, Or ere I rage or weep, I yearn to kiss their happy eyes Before the hour of sleep.” “I have a question yet to ask; Be patient, husband dear. A stranger, one auspicious morn, Did send some jewels here; Until to take them from my care, But yesterday he came, And I restored them with a sigh: —Dost thou approve or blame?” “I marvel much, sweet wife, that thou Shouldst breathe such words to me; Restore to man, resign to God, Whate’er is lent to thee; Restore it with a willing heart, Be grateful for the trust; Whate’er may tempt or try us, wife, Let us be ever just.” She took him by the passive hand. And up the moonlit stair, She led him to their bridal bed, With mute and mournful air; She turned the cover down, and there, In grave-like garments dressed, Lay the twin children of their love, In death’s serenest rest. “These were the jewels lent to me, Which God has deigned to own; The precious caskets still remain, But, ah, the _gems_ are flown; But thou didst teach me to resign What God alone can claim; He giveth and he takes away, Blest be His holy name!” The father gazed upon his babes, The mother drooped apart, While all the woman’s sorrow gushed From her o’erburdened heart; And with the striving of her grief, Which wrung the tears she shed. Were mingled low and loving words To the unconscious dead. When the sad sire had looked his fill, He vailed each breathless face, And down in self-abasement bowed, For comfort and for grace; With the deep eloquence of woe, Poured forth his secret soul, Rose up, and stood erect and calm, In spirit healed and whole. “Restrain thy tears, poor wife,” he said, “I learn this lesson still, God gives, and God can take away, Blest be His holy will! Blest are my children, for they _live_ From sin and sorrow free, And I am not all joyless, wife, With faith, hope, love, and thee.” THE TEA-PLANT. (FROM HOGG’S INSTRUCTOR.)