play
With the jonquils, and the daffodils,
Must wait for another May.

LATER POEMS.

TO MY SISTER.

M.A. KENNON.

"God's dear love is over all."

Dear, the random words you said
Once, as we two walked apart,
Still keep ringing in my head,
Still keep singing in my heart:
Like the lone pipe of a bird,
Like a tuneful waterfall
Far in desert places heard--
"God's dear love is over all!"

Thro' the ceaseless toil and strife
They have taught me to be strong!
Fashioned all my narrow life
To the measure of a song!
They have kept me brave and true--
Saved my feet from many a fall,
Since, what ever fate may do,
God's dear love is over all!

Lying in your chamber low,
Neath the daisies and the dew,
Can you hear me? Can you know
All the good I owe to you?
You, whose spirit dwells alway
Free from earthly taint and thrall!
You who taught me that sweet day
God's dear love is over all!

From your holy, far off Heaven,
When the beams of twilight wane,
Thro' the jasper gates of even
Breathe those trustful words again;
They shall aid and cheer me still,
What-so-ever fate befall,
Since thro' every good and ill
God's dear love is over all!

MEASURING THE BABY.

We measured the riotous baby
Against the cottage wall:
A lily grew at the threshold,
And the boy was just so tall;
A royal tiger lily,
With spots of purple and gold,
And a heart like a jeweled chalice,
The fragrant dews to hold.

Without the blue birds whistled,
High up in the old roof trees;
And to and fro at the window
The red rose rocked her bees;
And the wee pink fists of the baby
Were never a moment still,
Snatching at shine and shadow,
That danced on the lattice sill!

His eyes were wide as blue-bells,
His mouth like a flower unblown,
Two little barefeet, like funny white mice,
Peept out from his snowy gown;
And we thought, with a thrill of rapture.
That yet had a touch of pain--
When June rolls around with her roses
We'll measure the boy again!

Ah me! In a darkened chamber,
With the sunshine shut away,
Thro' tears that fell like a bitter rain
We measured the Boy to-day!
And the little bare feet, that were dimpled,
And sweet as a budding rose,
Lay side by side together,
In the hush of a long repose!

Up from the dainty pillow,
White as the rising dawn,
The fair little face lay smiling
With the light of Heaven thereon!
And the dear little