Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 133.djvu/520

A MAY DAY HYMN.

I.

May comes again, bright, sunny May!
To light the earth with purer ray,
To chase the mists that linger still
Adown the stream, or on the hill.
The woods with happy voices ring,
The fragrant breath of bursting spring
Pours gladness through the morning air,
And fields are green, and skies are fair.
Away cold winter, and dark night!
The world awakes to life and light.

II.

Dearer to us than sunny skies,
And waving woods to weary eyes,
Or song of birds in leafy dell
To jaded hearts from street and cell;
More fragrant than the breath of spring,
The grace that comes on angel-wing —
A gleam of Heaven, a glance of love
God sends us from his world above,
Down through the parted skies to-day,
To bless the opening month of May.

III.

Full well we know thy watchful care
Is with thy children everywhere,
By day and night that thou art near,
Dear Mother! all the circling year.
Yet nearer now some little space
We see the glories of thy face,
And in the sunshine of thy smile
Forget the cares of earth awhile.
Oh, when the clouds of passion lour,
And spirits of the deep have power,
Thy glance of love, like heaven’s pure ray,
Shall turn November into May.

Month.

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MATTHIAS.

"And the lot fell upon Matthias." — Acts i. 26.

Called out to fill the traitor’s place,
To bear the news of saving grace,
Shed forth upon our fallen race

Called forth, the wanderer home to lead,
Called forth, the flock of Christ to feed,
To sow on earth the heavenly seed!

O blessed lot, and yet below,
Scarce aught beside his name we know
On whom God did this grace bestow.

We know not where for God he fought,
What wondrous works by him he wrought,
What nations of Christ's love he taught.

Then never deem it cause of shame,
If none on earth inscribe thy name
Within the book of worldly fame.

If of God's chosen holy saint
We only see the outlines faint,
What right have we to make complaint?

If he who doth in secret see
Approve our work, small need have we
Of earthly fame or eulogy.

Grant only, Lord, that in thy sight
We walk as children of the light,
And ‘neath thy banner bravely fight.

Sunday Magazine.E. D.

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A LINNET'S SONG.

A wind-blown, sun-kissed, dew-wet flower of sound,
A sweet, imprisoned note from Kentish woods;
A note that holds the talk of forest buds
When spring makes all sweet things that be abound;
A note which listening to just now I found
Myself in the old paths where twilight broods.
It changed to liberal noon, whose sunlight floods
The aisles of trees, and billows on the ground:
I seemed again to walk in memory
With one held dearest for another’s sake —
That fairest one whom now love may not see,
For whom the heart of all the world should break.
Ah, trivial singer, that thy jubilee
Sad memories of love and death should wake!

Good Words.Philip Bourke Marston.

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MAY MEMORIES.

BY SARAH DOUDNEY.

Swiftly wound the silver river
Where the grass grew deep,
Through the mystic shade and silence
That the woodlands keep;
Underneath the chestnuts straying,
(Trembling fans o'erhead,)
With the creamy blossoms playing,
How my bright hours sped!

As a dream when one awaketh
Seems to me that day,
Chestnut blossoms, sliding river,
Fairyland of May!
City walls close in behind me,
Summer joys are o'er;
Where the sunshine used to find me
I shall stray no more.

Other hands will pull the blossoms,
Cones of pink and white;
Mine are worn with daily labor,
Tired from morn till night
Still I muse, but not in sadness,
On those bygone days;
Here my autumn hath its gladness
Worth a thousand Mays!

Leisure Hour.