es Bolton.

WAKING THOUGHTS

Another day God gives me, pure and white.
How can I make it holy in his sight?
Small means have I and but a narrow sphere,
Yet work is round me, for he placed me here.
How can I serve thee, Lord? Open mine eyes;
Show me the duty that around me lies.

"The house is small, but human hearts are there,
And for this day at least beneath thy care.
Someone is sad--then speak a word of cheer;
Someone is lonely--make him welcome here;
Someone has failed--protect him from despair;
Someone is poor--there's something you can spare!

"Thine own heart's sorrow mention but in prayer,
And carry sunshine with thee everywhere.
The little duties do with all thine heart
And from things sordid keep a mind apart;
Then sleep, my child, and take a well-earned rest,
In blessing others thou thyself art blest!"

LONELY SERVICE

Methought that in a solemn church I stood;
Its marble acres, worn with knees and feet,
Lay spread from door to door, from street to street.
Midway the form hung high upon the rood
Of Him who gave his life to be our good.
Beyond, priests flitted, bowed, and murmured meet
Among the candles, shining still and sweet.
Men came and went, and worshipped as they could--
And still their dust a woman with her broom,
Bowed to her work, kept sweeping to the door.
Then saw I, slow through all the pillared gloom,
Across the church a silent figure come;
"Daughter," it said, "thou sweepest well my floor."
"It is the Lord!" I cried, and saw no more.

--George Macdonald.

SHARE YOUR BLESSINGS

Dig channels for the streams of love,
Where they may broadly run,
And love has overflowing streams
To fill them every one.
But if at any time thou cease
Such channels to provide,
The very founts of love to thee
Will soon be parched and dried.
For thou must share if thou wouldst keep
That good thing from above;
Ceasing to share you cease to have;
Such is the law of love.

ONLY A LITTLE

Only a seed--but it chanced to fall
In a little cleft of a city wall,
And taking root, grew bravely up
Till a tiny blossom crowned its top.

Only a thought--but the work it wrought
Could never by tongue or pen be taught;
For it ran through a life like a thread of gold,
And the life