The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1909-06-24
SILENT VOICES.

Ne inenowing INES were written by Mrs. H.
M. aver Tor Dirigo Grange, Freedom and
w.1e reau at meeting in December, 1904
WIN WI. harvest Moon Grange, Thorndike, pres
ent py ihvitatlon, and are now printed for the
Let each one here be glad TODAY.
ana give to each cheerful greeting;
way 'lie prignt light and the suns warm ray
Lie deep in the heart of this meeting.
WIN y, the welcome to the visitors given
All hearts now in unison beat:
MANY OF you from afar have driven
10 enjoy with US this social treat.
LEI US give for moment one thought
10 Nature and her voices sweet:
How beautifully she hath wrought
her varied garments all complete,
Inc earth is cold; how changed it seems!
=, FOR Nature is not always green:
Yet through each broken branch there CLEANS
Myriad bright lights in silvery sheen.
When the tired earth lies down to sleep.
-, And hushed are all her song bird lays;
one II, leaves book in which to keep
The memory of her former DAYS.
We listen, and we seem to hear
thousand sounds from every hill,
oo!he call afar, some came more near
AND murmur through the brook and rill.
"A Thousand sounds come Ger the sea,
- some rise IN moaning requiems sad
IN great waves dashing restlessly;
others joyous, playful and glad,
Tossing their white foam high ashore,
Whlle rushing backward to the bay;
Danclng, Skipping the big waves Ger
Like children tossing balls at play.
The spring-time air. so fresh and sweet,
The summer sunshine and the rain,
With bright flowers blossoming at our feet
AS autumn reaps its ripening grain.
All these are messengers that speak
Through living tongues, in silent ways;
we look with eyes blindfold and weak
Our hearts untuned to sing Gods praise.
All life is bright and glorious,
when Nature dons her Autumn hue;
Leaves of russet-gold hang DER us
In every moss grown avenue.
Sparkling down in the silver stream,
we see the stars that shine so fair;
All earth seems hushed, as in dream,
Whle Nature breathes her evening PRAYER.
And winter, too, with voice more stern
Has messages of love to send,
Through snow-formed clouds, that we may
learn
How pure is life as the flakes descend
Go climb the mountains dizzy height,
~, Where rock-bound lodges ever stand,
Lies IN the strength of an unseen hand
Ask we the birds, why they always sing
Who keeps in tune their feathered throats:
they poise nid-air, or light awning
10 charm with their merry notes.
Whence stole that chord along the keys
That hushed the organ with surprise;
Left half its sweetness on the breeze
And half went back to Paradise.
In the deep forest dark and dense,
Or somewhere on this hemisphere,
That bird-like note still rings and hence
Its echo thrills each passing year.
IT'S the echo of that loved sweet song
That gives to music all its charm;
Iendery sweet as it floats along,
With silent touch, so still and calm
We cannot from these voices stray,
Their names are writ among the trees;
They follow us close by the way
Silent, on every light blown breeze
We hear them whisper soft and low,
So soft they STEP we hardly know;
Like angels walking to and fro
They came; we let our loved ones go.
With footsteps light, they walk unseen,
unheard their voices through the night;
Leave naught to tell where they have been,
Unknown they pass, just out of sight.
Of all the sounds that swiftly glide
From earth, or sky, or land or sea,
There's one sweet thought to ever guide,
One precious thought, "He leadeth me-
Hast thou not heard this voice so sweet
Nearer, closer, within thy heart?
Where earth and heaven together meet
With thy own self its counterpart?
We know not what's beyond this life;
We only know that on this side
there's no surcease of toll and strife,
Till the heavenly gates are opened wide