OCTOBER TWENTY-SECOND

The night is silent, the wind is still,
The moon is looking from yonder hill
Down upon convent, and grove, and garden;
The clouds have passed away from her face,
Leaving behind them no sorrowful trace,
Only the tender and quiet grace

Of one, whose heart has been healed with pardon.

The Golden Legend

OCTOBER TWENTY-THIRD

And such am I. My soul within

Was dark with passion and soiled with sin.
But now its wounds are healed again;
Gone are the anguish, the terror, and pain;
For across that desolate land of woe,
O'er whose burning sands I was forced to go,
A wind from heaven began to blow;
And all my being trembled and shook,

As the leaves of the tree, or the grass of the field,
And I was healed, as the sick are healed,
When fanned by the leaves of the Holy Book!

The Golden Legend

OCTOBER TWENTY-FOURTH

God sent his Singers upon earth

With songs of sadness and of mirth,

That they might touch the hearts of men,
And bring them back to heaven again.

The Singers

Thy dress was like the lilies;
And thy heart as pure as they:
One of God's holy messengers
Did walk with me that day.

But now, alas! the place seems changed;

Thou art no longer here:

Part of the sunshine of the scene

With thee did disappear.

A Gleam of Sunshine

OCTOBER TWENTY-SIXTH

She is a precious jewel I have found
Among the filth and rubbish of the world.
I'll stoop for it; but when I wear it here,
Set on my forehead like the morning star,
The world may wonder, but it will not laugh.
The Spanish Student

OCTOBER TWENTY-SEVENTH

As thou sittest in the moonlight there,
Its glory flooding thy golden hair,
And the only darkness that which lies

In the haunted chambers of thine eyes,

I feel my soul drawn unto thee,

Strangely, and strongly, and more and more,
As to one I have known and loved before;

For every soul is akin to me

That dwells in the land of mystery!

The Golden Legend

OCTOBER TWENTY-EIGHTH

When the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul, that slumbered,

To a holy, calm delight;

Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,

Come to visit me once more.

Footsteps of Angels

OCTOBER TWENTY-NINTH

It was Autumn, and incessant

Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves,

And, like living coals, the apples

Burned among the withering leaves.

OCTOBER THIRTIETH

Pegasus in Pound

The purple finch,

That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds,
A winter bird, comes with its plaintive whistle,
And pecks by the witch-hazel, whilst aloud
From cottage roofs the warbling bluebird sings.

Autumn (Earlier Poems)

OCTOBER THIRTY-FIRST

A sober gladness the old year takes up
His bright inheritance of golden fruits,
and pageant fill the splendid scene.

A pomp

Autumn (Earlier Poems)

WHAT a glory doth this world put on For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks On duties well performed, and days well spent! For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings.

He shall so hear the solemn hymn, that Death Has lifted up for all, that he shall go

To his long resting-place without a tear.

Autumn (Earlier Poems)

NOVEMBER SECOND

Ye children, does Death e'er alarm you? Death is the brother of Love, twin-brother is he, and is only

More austere to behold. With a kiss upon lips that are fading

Takes he the soul and departs, and rocked in the arms of affection,

Places the ransomed child, new born, 'fore the face of its father.

The Children of the Lord's Supper