Out of the glory that burned like flame, Calmly a great white angel came-- Softly he whispered her humble name. “Child of the highest,” he gently said, “Thy toils are ended, thy tears are shed, And life immortal now crowns thy head.” Poor old Margery Miller! No longer alone, Unsought, unknown, God _had not_ forgotten she was his own. A change o’er her pallid features passed; She felt that her feet were nearing fast The land of safety and peace, at last. She faintly murmured, “God’s name be blest!” And folding her hands on her dying breast, She calmly sank to her dreamless rest. Poor old Margery Miller! Sitting alone, Without one moan, Her patient spirit at length had flown. Next morning a stranger found her there, Her pale hands folded as if in prayer, Sitting so still in her old arm-chair. He spoke--but she answered not again, For, far away from all earthly pain, Her voice was singing a joyful strain. Poor old Margery Miller! Her spirit had flown To the world unknown, Where true hearts _never_ can be alone. THE LAW OF LIFE. Deeply musing On the many mysteries of life; Half excusing All man’s seeming failures in the strife; Through the city Did I take my lonely way at night; Filled with pity For the miseries that met my sight, In the faces, sickly, sad and sunken, In the faces, meager, mean and shrunken, Wanton, leering, passionate and drunken, Which I saw that night, Passing through the city-- Saw them by the street-lamps’ changing light. Burning brightly, Looked the watching stars from heaven above; As if lightly They beheld these wrecks of human love. “O, how distant,” Said I, “are they from this earth apart! How resistant To the woes that rend the human heart! Countless worlds! your radiant courses rounding, With your light the depth of distance sounding, Is there not some fount of love abounding? O, thou starlit night Brooding o’er the city! Would that truth might as thy stars shine bright.”