up from the horizon dim
Leads His bright morning waves again.

ANGELUS.

Softly drops the crimson sun:
Softly down from overhead,
Drop the bell-notes, one by one,
Melting in the melting red;
Sign to angel bands unsleeping,--
"Day is done, the dark is dread,
Take the world in care and keeping.

"Set the white-robed sentries close,
Wrap our want and weariness
In the surety of repose;
Let the shining presences,
Bearing fragrance on their wings,
Stand about our beds to bless,
Fright away all evil things.

"Rays of Him whose shadow pours
Through all lives a brimming glory,
Float o'er darksome woods and moors,
Float above the billows hoary;
Shine, through night and storm and sin,
Tangled fate and bitter story,
Guide the lost and wandering in!"

Now the last red ray is gone;
Now the twilight shadows hie;
Still the bell-notes, one by one,
Send their soft voice to the sky,
Praying, as with human lip,--
"Angels, hasten, night is nigh,
Take us to thy guardianship."

THE MORNING COMES BEFORE THE SUN.

Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose
From out night's gray and cloudy sheath;
Softly and still it grows and grows,
Petal by petal, leaf by leaf;
Each sleep-imprisoned creature breaks
Its dreamy fetters, one by one,
And love awakes, and labor wakes,--
The morning comes before the sun.

What is this message from the light
So fairer far than light can be?
Youth stands a-tiptoe, eager, bright,
In haste the risen sun to see;
Ah! check thy lunging, restless heart,
Count the charmed moments as they run,
It is life's best and fairest part,
This morning hour before the sun.

When once thy day shall burst to flower,
When once the sun shall climb the sky,
And busy hour by busy hour,
The urgent noontide draws anigh;
When the long shadows creep abreast,
To dim the happy task half done,
Thou wilt recall this pause of rest,
This morning hush before the sun.

To each, one dawning and one dew,
One fresh young hour is given by fate,
One rose flush on the early blue.
Be not impatient then, but wait!
Clasp the sweet peace on earth and sky,
By midnight angels woven and spun;
Better than day its prophecy,--
The morning comes before the sun.

LABORARE EST ORARE.

"Although St. Franceses was unwearied in her devotions, yet if,