My soul is filled with music Like the music of the sea; And it takes both storm and sunshine To awake it’s melody. My soul is often tempted, But from God it ne’er can part While the heavens shall bend above me And the Muses touch my heart. THE TEXT. The song may be the sweetest, And the story be the best, The sermon most effectual, And the poem well expressed; But the text, it’s inspiration, That the mind retains when heard, May be a line at longest Or perhaps a single word. ETHEL. [In Memoriam.] Before the little feet had weary grown With toiling up life’s path from day to day, The Master sent an angel from His home To show our baby girl the nearer way. Before the tiny hands were clasped in prayer, To ask of Him—as often seemeth best— To lighten burdens sometimes hard to bear, Those hands were folded in eternal rest. Before the baby eyes, so blue and bright, Had o’er life’s lessons oft’ been known to weep, The Saviour filled them with a Heavenly light, And closed them, for a little while, in sleep. Before the little heart could know a sadness, Such as is ours who wait with falling tears, He stilled its pulsing—hushed it into gladness— No griefs to bear thro’ all the coming years. Before the baby soul had known a wrong, Or tempted been by sins earth below, ’Twas winged to Heaven, by angels’ sweetest song, Pure and unspotted as the drifted snow. Home to our Master in that Land above, Never to know a heart-ache nor a care; Would we recall her, whom we truly love, To earthly home from Home Eternal there? Home to our Father in that Land of Light, Where angels guard her while we watch and pray, Where we shall meet her if we live aright,— For Home with Jesus is not far away; And when, some day, we hear our Saviour’s voice, We’ll breathe to Him above a thankful prayer, And hearts, once filled with sorrow, will rejoice That those we love are waiting for us there; And when Heaven’s gracious gate is opened wide To show, to gladdened souls, Eternal Day, A child, with sunny hair, will stand beside, To sing a welcome and to lead the way. Not long we wait,—our baby goes before, Spared from the sorrows which life here doth give,— Happy with Jesus on that Heavenly Shore, Where those He loves forevermore may live. Thro’ patient toil we’ll reach that Better Land Where now our darling finds her sweetest rest, And then I think that we shall understand,— And say, with happy hearts, that God knows best. LOVE’S ROSES. When love ’woke from slumber, At the dawn of day, Roses without number Bloomed upon his way;