The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-11-29

Childish, fitful April has just glided
over the threshold to maiden May, and
the baby life, coming with the early
breath OF spring freshness, seems like
some shrinking snemone, across which
the breeze from belated snowbank
blows, with death in its chill touch.
There is strange. haunting look in her
dark eyes, mirroring dark despairing
moods Of the mothers, to those Who
read between Che lines.
Some babies come into the world to
stay. Dear little red, screaming mites.
doubling up their tiny fists, they assert
their rights ct the top of their lungs.
evincing their determination to live and
thrive. in defiance Of death and doctors.
This is not one OF these. She seems too
frail for mortal touch. and tho mother
watches over her darling's umbers. half
fearing that the angels who must miss
her 80 have borne their sister home and
left her desolate.
Who. after q winter Of doubt aud dis
commencement. has not looked forward to
approaching spring with strange, new
hope? Who has not felt sure some rare
Gift waits behind this marvellous unfold
ing of natures lavish treasures? Bless
ings uncounted during the dark, sealed
DAVIS. now show us new faces, and we
find within our grasp, mayhap, the very
kew for which we sighed 80 long through
wintry storms, and knew it net till
Mother Nature, with her magic touch,
threw wide her door. and we beheld in
the transfigured hight our own flowers
blooming. and the fountains OF our
lan, - nnoa0 ioa1
"Spring poets" revel, and the editors
alone are sorrowful and heavy laden.
A soilad foreign letter reaches the
uuiet room across the ocean. Dearer q
thousand times it's worls than ever had
been word Or thought before, and the
fullness OF Joy il whispered.to the baby.
"Baby, baby, sweet, the king is comingl
With June will come all summer bloom.
Hark! hear the soft, low whispers OF the
wind, with hints OF summers sultry
breath in their soft touch. The trees
are whispering of the coming glory-old.
old a. creation, yet ever to be wrought
anew. A thousand ships sail ont on
sunny seas, and one will bear the king.
Baby, the king, our king is coming!'
And then the mother.heart is wrung
with apprehension lest the deep, sad eyes
shall close forever before the king can
come.
He comes at last, and with clasped
hands they stand together by the cradle.
Gently the mother lifts her in her arms
and softly cries "Baby our king has
COME" Mystic and deep with unfath'
enable mystery are the eyes that open
thus to greet the father. Slowly the
white lids are uplifted, and in their
grave and tender depths they read bright
prophecies. Serene and sweet are they.
lit by no glcam OF wonder at the coming
in Of royalty. Long ago in orient lands
knelt kings to worship
Y Hss S SSS 70 s .a q al"
And to each babe is given some living
spark of that divine ruling power to lead
us all, king, court and vassal, - pure
worship of Christ childness in every
dawning infant soul God sends us.
Bright with the coming glory of the an
gel-land, there shines the first glad look
Of earth life. Gaze long and deep, for
now the lids are slowly, slowly falling
Angels are beckoning, and with one low
sigh the soul has gone to meet that higher
king and universal Father who hath tru-
ly said, "a little child shall lead them"
Heller and purer than love of any liv-
ing child is this fond memory that binds
their hearts the closer. 1 see, years
hence, around their hearthstoRe clus-
tered sons and daughters. Trial and loss
have touched and chastened them to-
gether.
Bad passions allowed and fostered are
not easily curbed or eradicated. but be-
tween them, these two, can come no
breach wider than that little grave. The
little child, whose mission was 50 great,
will ever live, as Christ himself has
lived crucified by sin, yet living still in
souls purified and uplifted; in ministry
to Him, in sacrifice and abnegation,
which alone can bring us out OF troubled
seas to His safe harbor-peace and rest