Part 30 (2/2)

We may build grander homes than the home of our youth, On far loftier objects our eyes may be cast; But we never forget all its love and its truth; It has charms that will hallow it unto the last.

We may learn other tongues, but that language is best That we lisped with our mothers in infancy's days-- The language she sung when she rocked us to rest, And gave us good counsel and comfort and praise.

We may love other lands, but wherever we be The land that is greenest and fairest on earth Is the one that, perhaps, we may never more see-- The home of our fathers--the land of our birth.

May its daughters and sons grow in beauty and worth!

May the blessing of G.o.d give it freedom and rest!

Be it northward, or southward, or eastward, or west, The land of our birth is of all lands the best.

THE TEACHER'S DIADEM.

Sitting 'mid the gathering shadows, weary with the Sabbath's care; Weary with the Sabbath's burdens, that she dearly loves to bear; For she sees a s.h.i.+ning pathway, and she gladly presses on; 'Tis the first Great Teacher's footprints--it will lead where He has gone; With a hand that's never faltered, with a love that's ne'er grown dim, Long and faithfully she's labored, to His fold the lambs to bring.

But to-night her soul grows heavy; through the closed lids fall the tears, As the children pa.s.s before her, that she's taught these many years; And she cries in bitter anguish: ”Shall not one to me be given, To s.h.i.+ne upon my coronet amid the hosts of heaven!

Hear my prayer to-night, my Saviour, in Thy glorious home above; Give to me some little token--some approval of Thy love.”

Ere the words were scarcely uttered, banis.h.i.+ng the evening gloom, Came a soft and s.h.i.+ning radiance, bright'ning all within the room; And an angel in white raiment, brighter than the morning sun, Stood before her, pointing upward, while he softly whispered, ”Come.”

As he paused, she heard the rustle of his starry pinions bright, And she quickly rose and followed, out into the stilly night;

Up above the dim blue ether; up above the silver stars; On, beyond the golden portals; through the open pearly doors; Far across the sea of crystal, to the s.h.i.+ning sapphire Throne, Where she heard amid the chorus, ”Welcome, child; thy work's well done.”

Surely 'tis her Saviour speaking; 'tis His hands, aye, 'tis His feet; And she cries: ”Enough! I've seen Him; all my joys are now complete.”

All forgot earth's care and sorrow; all forgot the starry crown; 'Twas enough e'en to be near Him; to behold Him on His Throne.

”Not enough,” the Saviour answered; ”thou wouldst know through all these years, If in vain has been thy teaching, all thy labor and thy prayers; That from thee the end was hidden, did thy faith in me grow less?

Thou hast asked some little token, I will grant thee thy request.”

From out a golden casket, inlaid with many a gem, He took--glist'ning with countless jewels--a regal diadem; Bright a name shone in each jewel, names of many scholars dear, Who she thought had pa.s.sed unheeded all her earnest thought and care.

”But,” she asked, ”how came these names here--names I never saw before?”

And the Saviour smiling answered, ”'Tis the fruit thy teachings bore;

”'Tis the seed thy love hath planted, tended by my faithful hand; Though unseen by thee, it's budded, blossoming in many lands.

Here are names from darkened Egypt, names from Afric's desert sands; Names from isles amid the ocean, names from India's sunny strands; Some from Greenland's frozen mountains, some from burning tropic plains; From where'er man's found a dwelling, here you'll find some chosen name.

When thine earthly mission's ended, that in love to thee was given, This is the crown of thy rejoicing, that awaits thee here in heaven.”

Suddenly the bright light faded; all was dark within the room; And she sat amid the shadows of the Sabbath evening gloom; But a peaceful, holy incense rested on her soul like dew; Though the end from her was hidden, to her Master she'd be true; Sowing seed at morn and even, pausing not to count the gain; If her bread was on the waters, G.o.d would give it back again; If the harvest she had toiled for other hands than hers should reap, He'd repay her for her labor, who had bade her, ”Feed my sheep.”

TOBE'S MONUMENT.

BY ELIZABETH KILHAM.

<script>