the valley
While the multitudes go by;
You can chant in happy measure
As they slowly pass along;
Though they may forget the singer
They will not forget the song.

If you have not gold and silver
Ever ready to command;
If you cannot toward the needy,
Reach an ever-open hand;
You can visit the afflicted,
O'er the erring you can weep;
You can be a true disciple
Sitting at the Saviour's feet.

If you cannot in the harvest
Garner up the richest sheaves,
Many a grain both ripe and golden
Will the careless reapers leave;
Go and glean among the briers
Growing rank against the wall,
For it may be that their shadow
Hides the heaviest wheat of all.

If you cannot in the conflict
Prove yourself a soldier true,
If where fire and smoke are thickest
There's no work for you to do;
When the battle-field is silent
You can go with careful tread:
You can bear away the wounded,
You can cover up the dead.

If you cannot be the watchman,
Standing high on Zion's wall,
Pointing out the path to heaven,
Offering life and peace to all;
With your prayers and with your bounties
You can do what Heaven demands,
You can be like faithful Aaron,
Holding up the prophet's hands.

Do not, then, stand idly waiting
For some greater work to do;
Fortune is a lazy goddess--
She will never come to you.
Go and toil in any vineyard,
Do not fear to do or dare;
If you want a field of labor
You can find it anywhere.

--G. M. Grannis.

THE FAITHFUL MONK

Golden gleams of noonday fell
On the pavement of the cell,
And the monk still lingered there
In the ecstasy of prayer;
Fuller floods of glory streamed
Through the window, and it seemed
Like an answering glow of love
From the countenance above.

On the silence of the cell
Break the faint tones of a bell.
'Tis the hour when at the gate
Crowds of poor and hungry wait,
Wan and wistful, to be fed
With the friar of mercy's bread.

Hark! that chime of heaven's far bells!
On the monk's rapt ear it swells,
No! fond, flattering dream, away!
Mercy calls; no longer stay!
Whom thou yearnest here to find
In the musings of thy mind,
God and Jesus, lo, they wait
Knocking at thy