JANET
307
"O, GLORIOUS SABBATH SUN"
I
O, glorious Sabbath sun, thou art
A balm and blessing to my heart;
Dark sorrow flies, and in thy shine
Bursts o'er the world a flood divine.
II
So may the light beyond the skies
Illume and bless my inward eyes,
That each new day may bring to me
The splendor of eternity.
MOTTO FOR A TREE-PLANTING
Stay as the tree—go as the wind;
Whate'er thy place, serve God and kind!
The tree holds commerce with the skies
Tho' from its place it never flies.
They serve their God; they do not roam,
The stormy winds that have no home.
JANET
I remember
That November
When the new November child
On this old world woke and smiled.
Here's a woman,
Sweet and human,
And they call her Janet, now—
I can't make it out, I vow.
