If in this bosom aught but thee Encroaching sought a boundless sway, Omniscience could the danger see, And Mercy look the cause away. Then why, my soul, dost thou complain, Why drooping seek the dark recess? Shake off the melancholy chain, For God created all to bless. But ah! my breast is human still; The rising sigh, the falling tear, My languid vitals' feeble rill, The sickness of my soul declare. But yet, with fortitude resigned, I'll thank the inflicter of the blow; Forbid the sigh, compose my mind, Nor let the gush of misery flow. The gloomy mantle of the night, Which on my sinking spirit steals, Will vanish at the morning light, Which God, my east, my sun, reveals. THOMAS CHATTERTON. * * * * * "ONLY WAITING." [A very aged man in an almshouse was asked what he was doing now. He replied, "Only waiting."] Only waiting till the shadows Are a little longer grown, Only waiting till the glimmer Of the day's last beam is flown; Till the night of earth is faded From the heart, once full of day; Till the stars of heaven are breaking Through the twilight soft and gray. Only waiting till the reapers Have the last sheaf gathered home, For the summer time is faded, And the autumn winds have come. Quickly, reapers! gather quickly The last ripe hours of my heart, For the bloom of life is withered, And I hasten to depart. Only waiting till the angels Open wide the mystic gate, At whose feet I long have lingered, Weary, poor, and desolate. Even now I hear the footsteps, And their voices far away; If they call me, I am waiting, Only waiting to obey. Only waiting till the shadows Are a little longer grown, Only waiting till the glimmer Of the day's last beam is flown. Then from out the gathered darkness, Holy, deathless stars shall rise, By whose light my soul shall gladly Tread its pathway to the skies. FRANCES LAUGHTON MACE. * * * * * HOPEFULLY WAITING. "Blessed are they who are homesick, for they shall come at last to their Father's house."--HEINRICH STILLING. Not as you meant, O learned man, and good! Do I accept thy words of truth and rest; God, knowing all, knows what for me is best, And gives me what I need, not what he could, Nor always as I would! I shall go to the Father's house, and see Him and the Elder Brother face to face,-- What day or hour I know not. Let me be Steadfast in work, and earnest in the race, Not as a homesick child who all day long Whines at its play, and seldom speaks in song.