CLEANSING FIRES.

LET thy gold be cast in the furnace,
Thy red gold, precious and bright;
Do not fear the hungry fire,

With its caverns of burning light;
And thy gold shall return more precious,
Free from every spot and stain;
For gold must be tried by fire,

As a heart must be tried by pain.

In the cruel fire of sorrow

Cast thy heart, do not faint or wail;
Let thy hand be firm and steady,
Do not let thy spirit quail:
But wait till the trial is over,

And take thy heart again;

For as gold is tried by fire,

So a heart must be tried by pain!

I shall know by the gleam and glitter
Of the golden chain you wear,
By your heart's calm strength in loving,
Of the fire they have had to bear.
Beat on, true heart, forever;

Shine bright, strong golden chain;

And bless the cleansing fire,

And the furnace of living pain!

THE STORM.

THE tempest rages wild and high,
The waves lift up their voice and cry
Fierce answers to the angry sky,-

Miserere Domine.

Through the black night and driving rain

A ship is struggling, all in vain,

To live upon the stormy main;

Miserere Domine.

The thunders roar, the lightnings glare,

Vain is it now to strive or dare;

A cry goes up of great despair,

Miserere Domine.

The stormy voices of the main,
The moaning winds and pelting rain
Beat on the nursery window-pane:

Miserere Domine.

Warm curtained was the little bed,

Soft pillowed was the little head;

"The storm will wake the child," they said:

Miserere Domine.

Cowering among his pillows white

He prays, his blue eyes dim with fright, "Father, save those at sea to-night!" Miserere Domine.

The morning shone all clear and gay
On a ship at anchor in the bay,

And on a little child at play,

Gloria tibi Domine.

A LOST CHORD.

SEATED one day at the Organ,
I was weary and ill at ease,
And my fingers wandered idly
Over the noisy keys.

I do not know what I was playing,
Or what I was dreaming then;
But I struck one chord of music,
Like the sound of a great Amen.

It flooded the crimson twilight,
Like the close of an Angel's Psalm,
And it lay on my fevered spirit
With a touch of infinite calm.

It quieted pain and sorrow,

Like love overcoming strife; It seemed the harmonious echo From our discordant life.

It linked all perplexèd meanings
Into one perfect peace,
And trembled away into silence
As if it were loath to cease.

I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
That one lost chord divine,

Which came from the soul of the Organ,
And entered into mine.

It may be that Death's bright angel
Will speak in that chord again,
It may be that only in Heaven
I shall hear that grand Amen.

EVENING HYMN.

THE shadows of the evening hours
Fall from the darkening sky;
Upon the fragrance of the flowers
The dews of evening lie;

Before thy throne, O Lord of heaven,
We kneel at close of day;
Look on thy children from on high,
And hear us while we pray.

The sorrows of thy servants, Lord,
O do not thou despise;

But let the incense of our prayers
Before thy mercy rise;

The brightness of the coming night
Upon the darkness rolls:

With hopes of future glory chase
The shadows on our souls.

Slowly the rays of daylight fade;
So fade within our heart
The hopes in earthly love and joy,
That one by one depart:

Slowly the bright stars, one by one,

Within the heavens shine;

Give us, O Lord, fresh hopes in Heaven,
And trust in things divine.

Let peace, O Lord, thy peace, O God,
Upon our souls descend;

From midnight fears and perils, thou

Our trembling hearts defend;

Give us a respite from our toil,
Calm and subdue our woes;

Through the long day we suffer, Lord,
O give us now repose!