Wave over wave is toss'd;
Spray, white as winter's frost,
Up from it soars.

Yet where the conflict 's worst
Brightest it gleams;
Rays long in silence nursed
Shoot forth in streams:
Beauties before unknown
Out from its breast are thrown;
Light, like a golden zone,
Brilliantly beams.

Thus in the Christian's breast
Pure faith may lie,
Hid in the day of rest
Deep from the eye;
But when life's shadows lower
Faith lights the darkest hour,
Driving, by heavenly power,
Gloom from the sky.

DAY-DREAMS OF OTHER YEARS.

There are moments when my spirit wanders back to other years,
And time long, long departed, like the present still appears;
And I revel in the sunshine of those happy, happy hours,
When the sky of youth was cloudless, and its path was strewn with flowers.

O those days of dreamy sweetness! O those visions of delight!
Weaving garlands for the future, making all of earth too bright;
They come creeping through my memory like messengers of peace,
Telling tales of bygone blessings, bidding present sorrows cease.

Long-lost friends are gath'ring round me, smiling faces, gentle forms,
All unconscious of earth's struggles, all unmindful of its storms--
Beaming radiantly and beautiful, as in the days of youth,
When friendship was no mockery, when every thought was truth.

Joy, illuming every bosom, made fair nature fairer still--
Mirth sported on each summer breeze, and sung in every rill;
Beauty gleaming all around us, bright as dreams of fairy land--
Oh, faded now that lustre, scatter'd far that happy band!

Now deeply traced with sorrow is the once unclouded brow,
And eyes that sparkled joyously are dim with weeping now;
We are tasting life in earnest--all its vain illusions gone--
And the stars that glisten'd o'er our path are falling one by one.

Some are sleeping with their kindred--summer blossoms o'er them wave;
Some, lonely and unfriended, with the stranger found a grave;
While others now are wand'ring on a far and foreign shore,
And that happy, loving company shall meet--ah! never more.

But afar in mem'ry's garden, like a consecrated spot,
The heart's first hopes are hidden, and can never be forgot;
And the light that cheer'd us onward, in our airy early days--
Oft we linger in the distance