DIVIDED.

Bare grassy slopes, where the kids are tethered,
Round valleys like nests all ferny-lined;
Round hills, with fluttering tree-tops feathered,
Swell high in their freckled robes behind.

A rose-flush tender, a thrill, a quiver,
When golden gleams to the tree-tops glide;
A flashing edge for the milk-white river,
The beck, a river-with still sleek tide.

Broad and white, and polished as silver,
On she goes under fruit-laden trees;
Sunk in leafage cooeth the culver,

And 'plaineth of love's disloyalties.

Glitters the dew, and shines the river;
Up comes the lily and dries her bell;

But two are walking apart forever,

And wave their hands for a mute farewell.

VII.

A braver swell, a swifter sliding;

The river hasteth, her banks recede; Wing-like sails on her bosom gliding Bear down the lily, and drown the reed.

Stately prows are rising and bowing-
(Shouts of mariners winnow the air)—
And level sands for banks endowing

The tiny green ribbon that showed so fair.

While, O my heart! as white sails shiver,

And crowds are passing, and banks stretch wide,
How hard to follow, with lips that quiver,
That moving speck on the far-off side!

253

Farther, farther-I see it-know it

My eyes brim over, it melts away: Only my heart to my heart shall show it, As I walk desolate day by day.

VIII.

And yet I know past all doubting, truly,-
A knowledge greater than grief can dim-
I know, as he loved, he will love me duly-
Yea, better-e'en better than I love him;

And as I walk by the vast calm river,

The awful river so dread to see,

I say, “Thy breadth and thy depth forever
Are bridged by his thoughts that cross to me."

JEAN INGELOW.

To-day and To-morrow.

H'

IGH hopes that burn like stars sublime,
Go down the heavens of freedom;

And true hearts perish in the time

We bitterliest need 'em!

But never sit we down and say,

"There's nothing left but sorrow:"

We walk the Wilderness to-day-
The Promised Land to-morrow.

Our birds of song are silent now;
There are no flowers blooming!
But life burns in the frozen bough,

And Freedom's spring is coming!
And Freedom's tide comes up alway,
Though we may strand in sorrow;
And our good bark, aground to-day,
Shall float again to-morrow!

TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW.

Through all the long, drear night of years

The people's cry ascendeth,

And earth is wet with blood and tears,

But our meek suffering endeth!

The few shall not forever sway,

The many toil in sorrow:

The powers of hell are strong to-day,
But Christ shall rise to-morrow!

Though hearts brood o'er the past, our eyes
With smiling futures glisten:

For lo! our day bursts up the skies

Lean out our souls and listen!
The world rolls Freedom's radiant way,
And ripens with her sorrow :

Keep heart! who bear the cross to-day
Shall wear the crown to-morrow!

O Youth, flame-earnest, still aspire
With energies immortal!

To many a heaven of desire

Our yearning opes a portal!

And though Age wearies by the way,
And hearts break in the furrow,
We'll sow the golden grain to-day-
The harvest comes to-morrow!

Build up heroic lives, and all

Be like the sheathen sabre,

Ready to flash out at God's call-
O! Chivalry of labor!

Triumph and Toil are twins-and aye

Joy suns the cloud of sorrow;

And 't is the martyrdom to-day

Brings victory to-morrow!

GERALD MASSEY.

255

D

The Present.

O not crouch to-day, and v orship

The old Past whose life is fled: Hush your voice with tender reverence; Crowned he lies, but cold and dead: For the Present reigns our monarch, With an added weight of hours: Honor her, for she is mighty! Honor her, for she is ours!

See, the shadows of his heroes
Girt around her cloudy throne;
Every day the ranks are strengthened
By great hearts to him unknown;
Noble things the great Past promised;
Holy dreams, both strange and new;

But the Present shall fulfill them,

What he promised, she shall do.

She inherits all his treasures,
She is heir to all his fame;
And the light that lightens round her
Is the lustre of his name.
She is wise with all his wisdom,
Living on his grave she stands;
On her brow she bears his laurels,
And his harvest in her hands.

Coward, can she reign and conquer
If we thus her glory dim?

Let us fight for her as nobly
As our fathers fought for him.
God, who crowns the dying ages,
Bids her rule and us obey :-
Bids us cast our lives before her,
Bids us serve the great To-day.

ADELAIDE A. PROCTER.

IS IT COME?

257

Is

Is it Come?

S it come? they said, on the banks of the Nile, Who looked for the world's long-promised day, And saw but the strife of Egypt's toil

With the desert's sand and the granite gray. From the Pyramid, temple, and treasured dead, We vainly ask for her wisdom's plan ;

They tell us of the tyrant's dread:

Yet there was hope when that day began.

The Chaldee came with his starry lore,

And built up Babylon's crown and creed; And bricks were stamped on the Tigris' shore With signs which our sages scarce can read. From Ninus' temple and Nimrod's tower,

The rule of the old East's empire spread Unreasoning faith and unquestioned powerBut still, Is it come? the watcher said.

The light of the Persian's worshiped flame
O'er the ancient bondage its splendor threw ;
And once, on the West a sunrise came,

When Greece to her freedom's trust was true:
With dreams to the utmost ages dear,

With human gods, and with god-like men,

No marvel the far-off day seemed near

To eyes that looked through her laurels then.

The Romans conquered and reveled too,

Till honor, and faith, and power were gone; And deeper old Europe's darkness grew

As, wave after wave, the Goth came on. The gown was learning, the sword was law; The people served in the oxen's stead; But ever some gleam the watcher saw— And evermore, Is it come? they said.