A maiden wept and, as a comforter, Came one who cried, "I love thee," and he seized Her in his arms and kissed her with hot breath, That dried the tears upon her flaming cheeks. While evermore his boldly blazing eye Burned into hers; but she uncomforted Shrank from his arms and only wept the more. Then one came and gazed mutely in her face With wide and wistful eyes; but still aloof He held himself; as with a reverent fear, As one who knows some sacred presence nigh. And as she wept he mingled tear with tear, That cheered her soul like dew a dusty flower,-- Until she smiled, approached, and touched his hand! THE SEEDLING As a quiet little seedling Lay within its darksome bed, To itself it fell a-talking, And this is what it said: "I am not so very robust, But I 'll do the best I can;" And the seedling from that moment Its work of life began. So it pushed a little leaflet Up into the light of day, To examine the surroundings And show the rest the way. The leaflet liked the prospect, So it called its brother, Stem; Then two other leaflets heard it, And quickly followed them. To be sure, the haste and hurry Made the seedling sweat and pant; But almost before it knew it It found itself a plant. The sunshine poured upon it, And the clouds they gave a shower; And the little plant kept growing Till it found itself a flower. Little folks, be like the seedling, Always do the best you can; Every child must share life's labor Just as well as every man. And the sun and showers will help you Through the lonesome, struggling hours, Till you raise to light and beauty Virtue's fair, unfading flowers. PROMISE I grew a rose within a garden fair, And, tending it with more than loving care, I thought how, with the glory of its bloom, I should the darkness of my life illume; And, watching, ever smiled to see the lusty bud Drink freely in the summer sun to tinct its blood. My rose began to open, and its hue Was sweet to me as to it sun and dew; I watched it taking on its ruddy flame Until the day of perfect blooming came, Then hasted I with smiles to find it blushing red-- Too late! Some thoughtless child had plucked my rose and fled! FULFILMENT. I grew a rose once more to please mine eyes. All things to aid it--dew, sun, wind, fair skies-- Were kindly; and to shield it from despoil, I fenced it safely in with grateful toil. No other hand than mine shall pluck this flower, said I, And I was jealous of the bee that hovered nigh. It grew for days; I stood hour after hour To watch the slow unfolding of the flower, And then I did not leave its side at all, Lest some mischance my flower should befall. At last, oh joy! the central petals burst apart. It blossomed--but, alas! a worm was at its heart! SONG