The old, assuring miracle Is fresh as heretofore; And earth takes up its parable Of life from death once more. Here organ-swell and church-bell toll Methinks but discord were; The prayerful silence of the soul Is best befitting her. No sound should break the quietude Alike of earth and sky O wandering wind in Seabrook wood, Breathe but a half-heard sigh! Sing softly, spring-bird, for her sake; And thou not distant sea, Lapse lightly as if Jesus spake, And thou wert Galilee! For all her quiet life flowed on As meadow streamlets flow, Where fresher green reveals alone The noiseless ways they go. From her loved place of prayer I see The plain-robed mourners pass, With slow feet treading reverently The graveyard's springing grass. Make room, O mourning ones, for me, Where, like the friends of Paul, That you no more her face shall see You sorrow most of all. Her path shall brighten more and more Unto the perfect day; She cannot fail of peace who bore Such peace with her away. O sweet, calm face that seemed to wear The look of sins forgiven! O voice of prayer that seemed to bear Our own needs up to heaven! How reverent in our midst she stood, Or knelt in grateful praise! What grace of Christian womanhood Was in her household ways! For still her holy living meant No duty left undone; The heavenly and the human blent Their kindred loves in one. And if her life small leisure found For feasting ear and eye, And Pleasure, on her daily round, She passed unpausing by, Yet with her went a secret sense Of all things sweet and fair, And Beauty's gracious providence Refreshed her unaware. She kept her line of rectitude With love's unconscious ease; Her kindly instincts understood All gentle courtesies. An inborn charm of graciousness Made sweet her smile and tone, And glorified her farm-wife dress With beauty not its own. The dear Lord's best interpreters Are humble human souls; The Gospel of a life like hers Is more than books or scrolls. From scheme and creed the light goes out, The saintly fact survives; The blessed Master none can doubt Revealed in holy lives. 1873. A CHRISTMAS CARMEN. I. Sound over all waters, reach out from all lands, The chorus of voices, the clasping of hands; Sing hymns that were sung by the stars of the morn, Sing songs of the angels when Jesus was born! With glad jubilations Bring hope to the nations The dark night is ending and dawn has begun Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one! II. Sing the bridal of nations! with chorals of love Sing out the war-vulture and sing in the dove, Till the hearts of the peoples keep time in accord, And the voice of the world is the voice of the Lord! Clasp hands of the nations In strong gratulations: The dark night is ending and dawn has begun; Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one!