s we lowly bow;
Never have we kneeled before Thee
With such burden'd hearts as now!

Joy has been our constant portion,
And if ill must now befall,
With a filial acquiescence,
We would thank thee for it all.

In the path of present duty,
With Thy hand to lean upon,
Questioning not the hidden future,
May we walk serenely on.

For this holy, happy home-love,
Purest bliss that crowns my life,--
For these tender, trusting children,--
For this fondest, faithful wife,--

Here I pour my full thanksgiving;
And, when heart is torn from heart,
Be our sweetest tryst-word, '_Mizpah_,'--
Watch betwixt us while we part!

And if never round this altar,
We should kneel as heretofore,--
If these arms in benediction
Fold my precious ones no more,--

Thou, who in her direst anguish,
Sooth'dst thy mother's lonely lot,
In thy still unchanged compassion,
Son of Man! forsake them not!"

The little ones each he has caught to his breast,
And clasped them, and kissed them with fervent caress;
Then wordless and tearless, with hearts running o'er,
_They_ part who have never been parted before:
He springs to his saddle,--the rein is drawn tight,--
And Beechenbrook Cottage is lost to his sight.

II.

The feathery foliage has broadened its leaves,
And June, with its beautiful mornings and eves,
Its magical atmosphere, breezes and blooms,
Its woods all delicious with thousand perfumes,--
First-born of the Summer,--spoiled pet of the year,--
June, delicate queen of the seasons, is here!

The sadness has passed from the dwelling away,
And quiet serenity brightens the day:
With innocent prattle, her toils to beguile,
In the midst of her children, the mother _must_ smile.
With matronly cares,--those relentless demands
On the strength of her heart and the skill of her hands,--
The hours come tenderly, ceaselessly fraught,
And leave her small space for the broodings of thought.

Thank God!--busy fingers a solace can find,
To lighten the burden of body or mind;
And Eden's old curse proves a blessing instead,--
"In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou toil for thy bread."
For the bless'd relief in all labours that lurk,
Aye, thank Him, unhappy ones,--thank Him for work!

Thus Alice engages her tho