Undimmed it reaches me; but yet alone: The thousand gay companions that took wing Along with it have perished one by one, Scattered o'er space like blossoms of the spring. Some to yon nearer orbs have sped their course, Yon city's smoke has quenched a thousand more; Myriads in yon dark cloud have spent their force; A few stray gleams are all that reach our shore. And with us! How many, who began Life's race with us, are dropping by the way; Losing themselves in darkness one by one, From the glad goal departing wide astray; When we shall reach the kingdom of the blest, How few who started with us shall we find Arriving or arrived, for glorious rest! How many shall we mourn as left behind! --_Horatius Bonar._ Lord, what a change within us one short hour Spent in Thy presence will prevail to make-- What heavy burdens from our bosoms take, What parched grounds refresh, as with a shower! We kneel, and all around us seems to lower; We rise, and all, the distant and the near, Stands forth in sunny outline, brave and clear; We kneel how weak, we rise how full of power! Why, therefore, should we do ourselves this wrong, Or others--that we are not always strong; That we are ever overborne with care; That we should ever weak or heartless be, Anxious or troubled, when with us is prayer, And joy, and strength, and courage, are with Thee? --_Richard Chenevix Trench._ OUR FATHER. Oh that I loved the Father With depth of conscious love, As steadfast, bright, and burning As seraphim above! But how can I be deeming Myself a loving child, When here, and there, and everywhere, My thoughts are wandering wild? It is my chief desire To know Him more and more, To follow Him more fully Than I have done before: My eyes are dim with longing To see the Lord above; But oh! I fear from year to year, I do not truly love. 'For when I try to follow The mazes of my soul, I find no settled fire of love Illumining the whole; 'Tis all uncertain twilight, No clear and vivid glow; Would I could bring to God my King The perfect love I owe!' The gift is great and holy, 'Twill not be sought in vain; But look up for a moment From present doubt and pain, And calmly tell me _how_ you love The dearest ones below? "This love," say you, "is deep and true!" But tell me how you know? How do you love your father? "Oh in a thousand ways! I think there's no one like him, So worthy of my praise, I tell him all my troubles, And ask him what to do; I know that he will give to me His counsel kind and true. "Then every little service Of hand, or pen, or voice, Becomes, if he has asked it, The service of my choice. And from my own desires 'Tis not so hard to part, If once I know I follow so His wiser will and heart."