RECOGNITION

AS WE ARE KNOWN

WE walk alone through all life's various ways, Through light and darkness, sorrow, joy, and change;

And greeting each to each, through passing days

Still we are strange.

We hold our dear ones with a firm, strong

grasp;

We hear their voices, look into their eyes;
And yet betwixt us in that clinging clasp
A distance lies.

We cannot know their hearts, howe'er we may
Mingle thought, aspiration, hope, and prayer;
We cannot reach them, and in vain essay
To enter there.

AS WE ARE KNOWN

Still, in each heart of hearts a hidden deep
Lies, never fathomed by its dearest, best;
With closest care our purest thoughts we keep,
And tenderest.

But, blessed thought, we shall not always so
In darkness and in sadness walk alone;

There comes a glorious day when we shall

know

As we are known.

Eleanor Gray.

OVER THE RIVER

OVER the river they beckon to me,

Loved ones who crossed to the other side; The gleam of their snowy robes I see,

But their voices are drowned by the rushing tide.

There's one with ringlets of sunny gold,

And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue; He crossed in the twilight gray and cold,

And the pale mist hid him from mortal view. We saw not the angels that met him thereThe gate of the city we could not see; Over the river, over the river,

My brother stands, waiting to welcome me.

Over the river the boatman pale

Carried another, the household pet;

Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale-
Darling Minnie! I see her yet!

OVER THE RIVER

She closed on her bosom her dimpled hands
And fearlessly entered the phantom bark;
We watched it glide from the silver sands,

And all our sunshine grew strangely dark.
We know she is safe on the further side,
Where all the ransomed and angels be;
Over the river, the mystic river,

My childhood's idol is waiting for me.

For none return from those quiet shores,
Who cross with the boatman cold and pale;
We hear the dip of the golden oars,

And catch a glimpse of the snowy sail;

And lo! they have passed from our yearning

hearts

They cross the stream and are gone for aye.

We may not sunder the veil apart

That hides from our vision the gates of

day;

We only know that their barks no more

Sail with us o'er life's stormy sea;

Yet somewhere, I know, on the unseen shore,
They watch, and beckon, and wait for me.

OVER THE RIVER

And I sit and think when the sunset's gold
Is flashing on river, and hill, and shore,
I shall one day stand by the waters cold

And list to the sound of the boatman's oar. I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail;

I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand; I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale To the better shore of the spirit-land.

I shall know the loved who have gone before,
And joyfully sweet will the meeting be,
When over the river, the peaceful river,
The angel of death shall carry me.

Nancy Woodbury Priest.