-
Here in the evening--who can know
But God Himself walks to and fro!

And music past all mastering within the chancel rings;
None could desire a sweeter choir
Than this--that soars and sings,
Till far the scented shadows creep--
And quiet darkness bringeth sleep.

REQUEST

(To E. M.)

Sing me a song--a song to ease old sorrows,
And dull the edge of care--
A song of Hope to ring through all the morrows
That be my share.

Unlock the doors where joy hath been in hiding,
Though barred they be and strong,
And send black grief far down the wind a-riding--
Sing me a song.

Sing thou thy sky-lark song of sweetest daring,
And April ecstasy,
That I may follow it and go a-faring
To Arcady.

Charm sleep from out the shadows with thy singing,
And when the light turns grey,
Leave me bright dreams until the dawn comes bringing
The rose-edged day.

The wind of March taught thee his springtime madness,
And then in undertone
Whispered the wonder-secret of his gladness
To thee alone.

And thou hast learned from little brook and river
Their tender melody--
The notes that set the thrush's throat a-quiver
Are known to thee.

Sing me a song--a song to ease old sorrows,
And dull the edge of care--
A song of Hope, to ring through all the morrows
That be my share.

A SONG

0 heart of mine--if I were but a swallow--
A thing so fearless, swift of flight, and free--
On wings unwearied I would find and follow
Some path that led to thee!

Were I a rose out in the garden growing
My sweetness I would give the vagrant breeze
For he, perchance, might meet thee all unknowing--
Yet bring thee memories.

THE TOAST

A toast to thee, 0 dear old year,
While the last moments fly,
A toast to thy sweet memory--
We'll lift the glasses high,
And bid to thee a fond farewell
As thou art passing by!

A toast to those who reaped success
In this good year of grace;
A toast to every one of them--
Come! Give the victors place!
Come, wish them well with right good will--
The winners in the race!

And one toast more! To those who failed
Wherever they may be;--
With faces white they fought the fight,
But missed the victory;
So here's to them--the ones who strove--
On land and on the sea!

Fair dreams to thee, 0 grey old year,
Thy working time is done,
And gone for thee the silver moon,
And golden noon-day sun;
Yet sad old year--and glad old year