For a wise and glorious purpose Thou hast placed me here on earth, And withheld the recollection Of my former friends and birth. Yet, ofttimes a secret something Whispered, "You're a stranger here," And I felt that I had wandered From a more exalted sphere. I had learned to call thee Father, Through thy Spirit from on high; But until the Key of Knowledge Was restored, I knew not why. In the heavens are parents single? No, the thought makes reason stare! Truth is reason-truth eternal Tells me I've a Mother there. When I leave this frail existence, When I lay this mortal by, Father, Mother, may I meet you In your royal courts on high? Then, at length, when I've completed All you sent me forth to do, With your mutual approbation Let me come and dwell with you. [10] How wonderfully clear and comprehensive!--past, present and future circumscribed in brief compass, the mystery of the former life unfolded, the meaning of all existence made plain. Maeterlinck and "The Bluebird."--Maeterlinck, the Belgian poet, author of "The Bluebird," in that section of his dramatic masterpiece entitled "The Kingdom of the Future," deals with the pre-mortal life, and with the spirits of little children waiting to be brought down to earth to be born here. Old Father Time is there with his barge, gathering in the tiny passengers, holding back some whose turn is not yet, and permitting others whose birth-hour is about to strike. The barge being filled, he sails away, and mingling with the sweet strains of children's voices, hailing the distant planet that is to be their new abode, rises from below the song of the mothers coming out to meet them. When the poet's inspired mind conceived this beautiful creation, had he heard of Eliza R. Snow and her invocation to the Eternal Father and Mother? The Same Note.--I do not impute plagiarism in such cases. There is no monopoly of Truth. It reveals itself to whomsoever it will, and sometimes it tells to several persons, at different times and places, the same thing. Suffice it, that Eliza R. Snow, when she sang of the "first primeval childhood," sounded the identical note subsequently struck by Maurice Maeterlinck, when portraying so tenderly and so tellingly the heavenly origin and earthly advent of the spirits that tabernacle in mortality.