"Let the current, smooth and peaceful,
Of thy inner life, flow on;
Angel voices then shall whisper,

• Earth is changed, but heaven is won !”

In answer to "Spiritual Presence," and " A Lay of Sadness."

Dear one! I never saw thy face;

I never clasp thy hand;

Yet, thou art near me when I greet
That little, chosen band.-

The birds, who in their darkened cage,
Have sung the whole night through ;;
Refreshing many a weary heart—
As flowers made bright by dew.

The color of thine eyes,-thy hair,—
I cannot even tell;

But thy sweet presence dwells with me,,

Weaving a holy spell.

Yes; I have read thy touching lays,

Penned in thy forest home;

And when bow'd down by grief and pain,

Knew I was not alone.

When busy with my household cares,
My thoughts have flown to thee,
And, seated by thy side, our souls
Held converse, calm and free.

I've seen thee at thy daily toil,
And envied not, the while,
The queenly brow with coronet,
That weeps behind a smile.

If there are seasons when thy soul,
Chafed with its iron chain,
Bursts forth, indignant at its wrongs,
Peace soon asserts her reign.

Though shackled and bound, hand and foot, Thou'lt never be dismayed;

For that blest hand shall still clasp thine, Even as thou hast prayed.

Child-like in heart, oh! blest-most blest!

Though earthly gifts denied ;

Then come to me, the vacant seat
Is ready by my side.

I, too, am weary, sad and lone;
My brow is furrowed o'er ;
Struggling, the long, dark, starless night,
To gain the distant shore.

Yes; I could tell a tale to thee,

That e'en thy blood would chill ;

Of strivings for the strength and trust,
To suffer, and be still.

If independent thou canst act,
Because thou stand'st alone;

Deem not thy cup of misery full,

Toil on! Thou'lt reach thy home.

Let not thy pen be silent long,

For eager eyes do scan

The page, to find thy simple name,
Pleading the rights of man.

Farewell! though distance sunder wide;
Though storms beset our way;
May the true light still guide us on,
Unto the perfect day.

My blessings! though I may not see
Thy face, nor clasp thy hand;

For thou art one of that dear flock-
My loved, my chosen band.

[Written for Burritt's Citizen.]

AN APPEAL TO WOMAN.

"O, thou slothful and slow of heart! rise up in the strength of thy womanhood, and Christ shall give thee light!"

Oh! let me speak, though but a " flute-note tone"
Should fall upon your slumbering ears, the while;
Though no loud clarion blast can be mine own,
To lure from fashion's thrall that doth beguile.

I will not let that humbling thought have power
To check the words that struggle to be free;
For well I know that e'en earth's tiniest flower,
By some mysterious chord, is linked to me.

I call on woman! Say ye, "tis in vain ?"

That the obscure's low voice will not be heard?
Still, like the carrier dove, naught can detain
The message I will bear, though a frail bird.

Up, then, ye mothers! daughters of the land!
Too long has sophistry your reason bound.
Ye wives and sisters! - join our holy band;

Up, and no longer gainst the cause be found.

For, could you hear the smothered cry of woe, Bursting from sorrow's crushed and bleeding heart— (War's legacy ;) oh! not with footsteps slow,

You'd lend your aid to rend its chain apart.

--

Tis woman's mission, and she'll brave all scorn ;-
She who beside the bleeding cross last stood,
And first before the tomb, though pale and worn,—
Let Him still say, "She hath done what she could.'

Yes; there are Frys and Lacans o'er the sea,
Yet our own noble leader calls in vain.
Will ye not aid him? Slaves ye must not be:
Come, gather in a harvest of ripe grain.

The hydra-headed monster shall be crushed;
False honor, men of sense no more shall bind;
Gird on love's armor, and the cries are hushed:
We preach the brotherhood of human kind!

IN MEMORY OF

How shall we mourn thee? With a lofty trust,
Our life's immortal birthright from above!
With a glad faith, whose eye, to track the just

Through shades and mysteries, lifts a glance of love,

And yet can weep, for nature thus deplores

The friend who leaves us, though for happier shores.

HEMANS.

Yes; we will mourn thee "with a lofty trust," Though 'reft of thy loved presence evermore! Though earth be darkened, Heaven's decrees are just ; For thou hast gained, at last, the eternal shore. Listening, we almost fancy we can hear

The glad, glad welcome that salutes thine ear.

Earth has one angel less for me to greet,

When worn and weary, with life's care and pain;
For oh! thy words, peace-fraught, have fallen sweet,
And cooled the fever of this throbbing brain:

For well I knew, that, were the power thine,
Thou'd weave bright rainbows from these tears of mine.

Darling, 'tis hard to know I never more

Shall sit beside thee, clasping that dear hand;
That our high communings on earth are o'er,
For we have spoken of the better land-
Of the soul's destiny, of future rest.

Now, all is clear to thee; thou 'rt with the blest.

Gone-yet thou still art near! we 'll commune oft,
For faith's own prayer can open worlds of light;
Thy angel footsteps, falling low and soft,

Shall make the midnight darkness noonday bright.
Then will I pour my soul out freely still,
E'en while I bow to the All-Father's will.