t Voice which through the ages
Sings earth's lullaby.

Oftentimes a sleepless infant
For a season frets and cries:
All at once an unseen finger
Curtains up the little eyes.
So the cradled child He nurses
God will tranquillise.

His the all-enfolding Presence;
Oh, what tutelage it brings
To the little lives that ripen
'Neath the shelter of its wings;
God's delays are no denials,
As He waits He sings!

They alone are seers and singers
Who invalidate despair
By the lofty hopes they cherish,
By the gallant deeds they dare,
By the ceaseless aspirations
Of a life of prayer.

Brothers, sisters, lift your voices,
May the rapture of your song
Put to flight the sad misgivings
That have vexed the world too long;
God would have us share the triumph
That shall right the wrong.

LOCH LAGGAN: 1884.

_A CRADLED CHILD._

(To E. A. G.)

Behold! the world's inheritance,
The treasure-trove of happy homes;
Whereby the poorest hut becomes
A fairy-palace of romance.

A cradle is the mother's shrine:
Two lamps o'erhang it--her sweet eyes,
Whose love-light falls, Madonna-wise,
On sleeping infancy divine.

The presence of a 'holy thing,'
Madonna-wise, her heart discerns,
And like a fragrant censer burns,
O'ershadowed by an angel's wing.

Her brooding motherhood is strong;
A trembling joy her bosom stirs,
Her thoughts are white-robed worshippers,
'Magnificat' is all her song.

'Mid angels whispering 'all-hails'
The waking moment she awaits,
The opening of two pearly gates,
The lifting of two silken veils.

Ah! then, what words can tell the bliss,
The rapture of the fond embrace,
When mother's lips on baby's face,
Feast and are feasted with a kiss?

And who can tell of hands and feet
The dimpled wonders, hidden charms,
The dainty curves of legs and arms,
So sweet and soft, so soft and sweet?

This is the world's possession still,
The treasure-trove of wedded hearts,
Whereby a Father's love imparts
His joy, their gladness to fulfil.

TYNTESFIELD: 1884.

_AN EMPTY CRADLE._

All empty stands a little cradle-bed,
A mother's falling tears the only sound;
But not of earth her thoughts, nor underground;
Up-gazing she discerns the Fountain-head
Of life; the living Voice she hears that said
'Fear not' to w