Year: 1873

| itgtOuS poetry, DuI IL Is 50 ATeiSnCeu VIII
truth and tenderness that we yield TO the
tenn ptation TO place it before our readers:
" 1T eren, or at midnight, or at the cOck-eroa7-


ina, or in the morning.
1t may be in the evening,
| When the work of the day is done,
! And you have time TO sit in the twilight
A Id watch the sinking sun,
While the long bright day dies slowly,
Over the sea.
And the hour grows quiet and holy


With the thoughts of me;
While you hear the village children


Passing along the street,
Among those throDging footsteps


May come the sound of my feet;
Therefore l tell you: Watch


BY the light OF the evening star,
When .he room is growing dusky


AS the CLOUDS aiar;
Let tie door be on the latch


In your home
For it may be in the glooming


| will come.
sit may be when the midnight


l. heavy upon the land,
And the black waves lying dumbly


Along the sand;
When the moonlesS night draws close,
Aud the lights out in the house;
When the fires burn low and red,
And the watch il ticking loudly


Beside the bed;
ThOngh yon sleep tired out. on your couch.
Still your heart must wake aud watch


In the dark room,
For it may be that at midnight


L Will come.
lit may be at the cack-crow,
When the night is dying slowly


In the sky.
And the sea looms calm and holy,


Waiting for the dawn


OF the golden sun


Which drawpth nigh
When the mSts are ola the valleys, shading


The rivers chill,
And my morning-star is fading, fading


Over the hill
Behold l say unto you: Watch;
Let the door be on the latch


In your home;
In the chill before the dawning,
Between the night and morning


may come.
1T may be in the morning.


When the sun is bright and strong,
And the dew is gIittering sharply


Over the little lawn;
When the waves are laughing loudly


Along the shore.
And the little birds are singing sweetly


About the door;
With the long days work tefore YOU,


Hou rise up with the sun,
And the neighbors come in to talk ii little
OF all that must be done;
But rtmem Der that | may be the next


o come in at the door,
To call you FROM all your busy work


For eVermore:
As you work your heart must watch,


For the door is on the latch
And it may be in the morning


l will come"
SO lie passed down my cottage-garden,


by the path that leads to the sea,
Till he came TO the turn of the little road


Where the birch and Iaburnum-tree
Lean over and arch the way:
There | saw h IN a moment stav,


And turn once more to me,


AS wept at the cottage-door,
And lift up His hands IN blessing
Then | saw His face no more.
MI l stood still in the doorway,


Leaning against the wall,
ot needing the fair white roses,
Though 1 crushed them and let them fall;
DAILY looking down the pathway,
And looking toward the sea,
md wondering and wondering


When lie would come back for me;
Fill | was aware of an angel


Who was going swiftly by,
" .th the gladneSS of one who goeth
In the light of God Most High.
lie passed the end of the cottage
Toward the garden-gate-
| suppose he Was come down
At the setting of the sun
Co comfort some one in the village
Whose dwelling was desolate)-
And he passed before the door


Beside my place,
nd the likeness of a smile


Was on his face.
w eep not he said. "for unto you is given
To watch the coming of His feet
no Is the glory of our blessed heaven;
The work of watching will be very swee.,
Even in an earthly home;
And in such an hour you think not
He will come
70 am watching quietly
Every day.
Whenever the sun shines brightly,
| rise and say:
Surely it is the shining of His facet
And look unto the gates OF His high place
Beyond the sea,
FOR know He is coming shortly
To summon me.
nd when IA shadow falls across the window
OF my room,
here am working my appointed task,
Ii It my head to watch the the door ard ask
III He is come;
md the angel answers sWeetly
In my Home:
Only few more shadows,


nd H.A /