ion, unimpeded scope,
A widening heaven, a current without care,
Eternity! Deliverance, promise, course,
Time-tired souls salute thee from the shore.

--Brownlee Brown.

AT END

At end of love, at end of life,
At end of hope, at end of strife,
At end of all we cling to so,
The sun is setting--must we go?

At dawn of love, at dawn of life,
At dawn of peace that follows strife,
At dawn of all we long for so,
The sun is rising--let us go!

--Louise Chandler Moulton.

WHAT IS DEATH

It is not death to die--
To leave this weary road,
And, 'mid the brotherhood on high,
To be at home with God.

It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

It is not death to bear
The wrench that sets us free
From dungeon chain, to breathe the air
Of boundless liberty.

It is not death to fling
Aside this sinful dust,
And rise on strong exulting wing
To live among the just.

Jesus, thou Prince of life,
Thy chosen cannot die!
Like thee they conquer in the strife
To reign with thee on high.

--Abraham H. C. Malan, tr. by George Washington Bethune.

UPHILL

Does the road wind uphill all the way?
_Yes, to the very end._
Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
_From morn to night, my friend._

But is there for the night a resting-place?
_A roof for when the slow dark hours begin._
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
_You cannot miss the inn._

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
_Those who have gone before._
Then must I knock or call when just in sight?
_They will not keep you standing at the door._

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
_Of labor you shall find the sum._
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
_Yes, beds for all who come._

--Christina G. Rossetti.

ON SECOND THOUGHT

The end's so near,
It is all one
What track I steer,
What work's begun,
It is all one
If _nothing's_ done,
The end's so near!

The end's so near,
It is all one
_What_ track thou steer,
_What_ work's begun--
_Some_ deed, _some_ plan,
As thou'rt a man!
The end's so near!

--Edward Rowland Sill.

THE VOICE