I. `Poetry` 000
In stagnant gloom I toil through day
All that enchants me put away.
No bird decoyed to such a breast
Could warble a note or be at rest;
From the old fountains of delight
Falls not one drop to salve my sight.
YetThou who mad`st of dust my face
And shut me in this bitter place
Thou also past the world to know
Did`st hinges hang where heart may go
After day`s travailvain all words!Into this garden of the Lord`s.

II. `Another Spring` 248
What though the first pure snowdrop wilt and die?
What though the cuckoo having come is gone?
Clouds cold with gloom assail the sun-sweet sky
And night`s dark curtains tell that day is done?
This is our earthly fate. Howe`er we range
Life and its dust are in perpetual change.
What though then Sweet as welling time wins on
The early roses in thy cheeks shall ail?
When they have bloomed it`s not thyself shall wan
Nor for lost music shall thy heart-strings fail.
That Self`s thine own. And all that age can bring
Love will make lovely. Then another Spring!

III. `Afraid` 447
Here lies but seven years old our little maid
Once of the darkness Oh so sore afraid!
Light of the Worldremember that small fear
And when nor moon nor stars do shine draw near!