I met a child, and kissed it; who shall say I stole a joy in which I had no part? The happy creature from that very day Hath felt the more his little human heart. Now when I pass he runs away and smiles, And tries to seem afraid with pretty wiles. I am a happier and a richer man, Since I have sown this new joy in the earth; 'Tis no small thing for us to reap stray mirth In every sunny wayside where we can. It is a joy to me to be a joy Which may in the most lowly heart take root; And it is gladness to that little boy To look out for me at the mountain foot. --Frederick William Faber. Sow thou sorrow and thou shalt reap it; Sow thou joy and thou shalt keep it. --Richard Watson Gilder. A LANCASHIRE DOXOLOGY (Written in May, 1863, when cotton came to Lancashire, enabling the mills to open after being long closed. The suffering, grateful women sang the Doxology.) "Praise God from whom all blessings flow." Praise Him who sendeth joy and woe. The Lord who takes--the Lord who gives-- O praise him, all that dies, and lives. He opens and he shuts his hand, But why, we cannot understand. Pours and dries up his mercies' flood, And yet is still All-perfect Good. We fathom not the mighty plan, The mystery of God and man; We women, when afflictions come, We only suffer and are dumb. And when, the tempest passing by, He gleams out, sun-like, through our sky, We look up and, through black clouds riven, We recognize the smile of Heaven. Ours is no wisdom of the wise. We have no deep philosophies; Childlike we take both kiss and rod, For he who loveth knoweth God. --Dinah Maria Mulock Craik. VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS Through night to light! And though to mortal eyes Creation's face a pall of horror wear, Good cheer! good cheer! the gloom of midnight flies; Then shall a sunrise follow, mild and fair. Through storm to calm! And though his thunder car The rumbling tempest drive through earth and sky, Good cheer! good cheer! The elemental war Tells that the blessed healing hour is nigh. Through frost to spring! And though the biting blast Of Eurus stiffen nature's juicy veins, Good cheer! good cheer! When winter's wrath is past, Soft-murmuring spring breathes sweetly o'er the plains. Through strife to peace! And though with bristling front A thousand frightful deaths encompass thee, Good cheer! good cheer! brave thou the battle's brunt, For the peace-march and song of victory. Through toil to sleep! And though the sultry noon With heavy drooping wing oppress thee now, Good cheer! good cheer! the cool of evening soon Shall lull to sweet repose thy weary brow.