The Here and There are not so far apart, As oft’ they seem to Sorrow’s waiting heart; The waking love that Here no more shall sleep Will There the souls in perfect union keep. God does not mean, tho’ Heaven be bright and fair, To break the strands between the Here and There. The heart that loves shall love beyond the skies; The soul that lives shall live in Paradise. We know that He in joy and peace will keep Our own and His until we fall asleep. The same sweet smile, the loving face so fair, But glorified, awaits our coming There. To those who trust and patiently endure, He gives them back, bright, beautiful and pure. They are not lost to such as you and me But still shall love us thro’ Eternity;— And from temptation and from earthly care Shall lead us upward to the Heavenly There. AIR CASTLES. Sometimes I dwell not here— But far away, Where not a breath disturbs My fondest dream; Where, loitering at ease, Myself alone I please And sing my soul good cheer Within my castles fair, That I have built in air, Above Time’s stream. Outside, like haunting ghosts, The clouds appear, But noiselessly pass by Each bolted gate; Around my castle walls, The hush of moon-light falls, While, like the armied hosts, With torches flashing bright, The stars come out at night To celebrate. ’Tis bliss to dwell like this, In airy heights, Above the common crowd And earthly din; Where all the livelong day, With my best self I stay And naught of glory miss; Where neither friend nor foe, To pity or bring woe, Can enter in. Who dares uplift a latch, Like thief at night, To scatter treasured hopes And steal my store? Who darkens my domain Where I, an empress, reign, While subjects wait dispatch? Away, ye dread Despair! To castles in the air Still let me soar. LITTLE JOE. He stands in crowded city street, Poor, tired, little Joe, And sees the people pass and meet While moments come and go. He holds sweet flowers in his hand, Poor, patient, little Joe, And wonders who can understand His poverty and woe. “Please won’t you buy my blossoms bright?” Cries hopeful, little Joe, While daylight fades and sunset light Floods stirring streets below. But no one lingers, no one cares For homeless, little Joe; When mother breathed his name in prayers He was too small to know. When father took him on his knee, Dear, little baby Joe, He used to crow in childish glee But that was long ago. The night grows dark, and no one hears Poor, heartsick, little Joe; He puts his flowers away with tears And turns his foot-steps slow.