Pour out thy love like the rush of a river, Wasting its waters, forever and ever, Through the burnt sands that reward not the giver: Silent or songful, thou nearest the sea. Scatter thy life as the summer's shower pouring; What if no bird through the pearl rain is soaring? What if no blossom looks upward adoring? Look to the life that was lavished for thee! So the wild wind strews its perfumed caresses: Evil and thankless the desert it blesses; Bitter the wave that its soft pinion presses; Never it ceaseth to whisper and sing. What if the hard heart give thorns for thy roses? What if on rocks thy tired bosom reposes? Sweeter is music with minor-keyed closes, Fairest the vines that on ruin will cling. Almost the day of thy giving is over; Ere from the grass dies the bee-haunted clover Thou wilt have vanished from friend and from lover: What shall thy longing avail in the grave? Give as the heart gives whose fetters are breaking-- Life, love, and hope, all thy dreams and thy waking; Soon, heaven's river thy soul-fever slaking, Thou shalt know God and the gift that he gave. --Rose Terry Cooke. ALONG THE WAY There are so many helpful things to do Along life's way (Helps to the helper, if we did but know), From day to day. So many troubled hearts to soothe, So many pathways rough to smooth, So many comforting words to say, To the hearts that falter along the way. Here is a lamp of hope gone out Along the way. Some one stumbled and fell, no doubt-- But, brother, stay! Out of thy store of oil refill; Kindle the courage that smoulders still; Think what Jesus would do to-day For one who had fallen beside the way. How many lifted hands still plead Along life's way! The old, sad story of human need Reads on for aye. But let us follow the Saviour's plan-- Love unstinted to every man; Content if, at most, the world should say: "He helped his brother along the way!" SAVED TO SERVE Is thy cruse of comfort failing? Rise and share it with another, And through all the years of famine It shall serve thee and thy brother. Love divine will fill thy storehouse Or thy handful still renew; Scanty fare for one will often Make a royal feast for two. For the heart grows rich in giving-- All its wealth is living gain; Seeds which mildew in the garner Scattered fill with gold the plain. Is thy burden hard and heavy? Do thy steps drag wearily? Help to bear thy brother's burden; God will bear both it and thee. Numb and weary on the mountains, Wouldst thou sleep amidst the snow? Chafe that frozen form beside thee, And together both shall glow.