God has his plans, and what if we With our sight be too blind to see Their full fruition; cannot he, Who made it, solve the mystery? One whom we loved has fall'n asleep, Not died; although her calm be deep, Some new, unknown, and strange surprise In Heaven holds enrapt her eyes. And can you blame her that her gaze Is turned away from earthly ways, When to her eyes God's light and love Have giv'n the view of things above? A gentle spirit sweetly good, The pearl of precious womanhood; Who heard the voice of duty clear, And found her mission soon and near. She loved all nature, flowers fair, The warmth of sun, the kiss of air, The birds that filled the sky with song, The stream that laughed its way along. Her home to her was shrine and throne, But one love held her not alone; She sought out poverty and grief, Who touched her robe and found relief. So sped she in her Master's work, Too busy and too brave to shirk, When through the silence, dusk and dim, God called her and she fled to him. We wonder at the early call, And tears of sorrow can but fall For her o'er whom we spread the pall; But faith, sweet faith, is over all. The house is dust, the voice is dumb, But through undying years to come, The spark that glowed within her soul Shall light our footsteps to the goal. She went her way; but oh, she trod The path that led her straight to God. Such lives as this put death to scorn; They lose our day to find God's morn. WHEN MALINDY SINGS G'way an' quit dat noise, Miss Lucy-- Put dat music book away; What's de use to keep on tryin'? Ef you practise twell you 're gray, You cain't sta't no notes a-flyin' Lak de ones dat rants and rings F'om de kitchen to be big woods When Malindy sings. You ain't got de nachel o'gans Fu' to make de soun' come right, You ain't got de tu'ns an' twistin's Fu' to make it sweet an' light. Tell you one thing now, Miss Lucy, An' I 'm tellin' you fu' true, When hit comes to raal right singin', 'T ain't no easy thing to do. Easy 'nough fu' folks to hollah, Lookin' at de lines an' dots, When dey ain't no one kin sence it, An' de chune comes in, in spots; But fu' real melojous music, Dat jes' strikes yo' hea't and clings, Jes' you stan' an' listen wif me When Malindy sings. Ain't you nevah hyeahd Malindy? Blessed soul, tek up de cross! Look hyeah, ain't you jokin', honey? Well, you don't know whut you los'. Y' ought to hyeah dat gal a-wa'blin', Robins, la'ks, an' all dem things, Heish dey moufs an' hides dey faces When Malindy sings. Fiddlin' man jes' stop his fiddlin', Lay his fiddle on de she'f; Mockin'-bird quit tryin' to whistle, 'Cause he jes' so shamed hisse'f. Folks a-playin' on de banjo Draps dey fingahs on de strings-- Bless yo' soul--fu'gits to move em, When Malindy sings.