"Never hasting, never resting," Glad in peace and calm in strife; Quietly thyself preparing

To perform thy part in life.

Earnest, hopeful, and unswerving;
Weary though thou art and faint,
Ne'er despair: there's One above thee
Listning ever to thy plaint.

Stumbleth he who runneth fast,
Dieth he who standeth still;
Not by haste, or rest, can ever
Man his destiny fulfil.

"Never hasting, never resting,"

Legend fine and quaint and olden ;

In our thinking, in our acting,

Should be writ in letters golden.

BIRDS' TEACHINGS.

WINGS, EMBLEMS OF TRUTH.

"This pretty bird, oh, how she flies and sings!
But could she do so if she had not wings?
Her wings bespeak my faith, her songs my peace;
When I believe and sing my doubtings cease."

BUNYAN.

The Sisters' Wish.

"Mary and I," said a little girl, "would each of us like to be a bird; for Mary would like to fly, and I would like to make a nest and sing."

66

M

ARY would like to be a bird

Because she then could fly
O'er sea and land, and far above
Among the stars on high;

"And I too wish I were a bird,—
Not for its tireless wing,

But in some quiet woodland nook,

To make my nest and sing."

Sweet sisters, different as your wish
Doth fancy picture you,-

One with her calm Madonna brow
And eyes of softest blue;

And one who seems, with glowing cheek
And brightly glancing eye,

As lacking but a cherub's wing
To soar at once on high.

And doth not to each voice belong

A music all its own?

This, joyous as the skylark's note,—
That, dovelike in its tone.

Of hope and joy, of love and peace,
Each sings her own sweet lay;
Oh, may that matin-song endure
Throughout life's changeful day!

Yet earthly hope, how bright so e'er,
Tells but "a flattering tale,"

And love will droop in leafless bower
When Spring's sweet fancies fail.

And peace to thee, thou merry lark,
Bird of the tireless wing;

And joy to thee, thou gentle dove,

In bowery nest to sing!

Thou of the bright and eager glance
And thoughts that soar on high,
Yet fold awhile thy unfledged wing
And stoop or e'er thou fly;

So may'st thou trace the upward path
Through death's low shadowy vale,
An everlasting home to find

"When flesh and heart shall fail."

Thou fair one, with the thoughtful brow
And smile of trustful love,

Build thou thy nest,-but not on earth,
Thy home must be above:

Yea, where beside the living stream
The goodly cedars spring,

The birds of heaven may make their nests
And mid the branches sing.

And thus to each the wish of both
In two-fold bliss be given:

A soaring-not a roving wing,
And rest-but rest in heaven.

K

H

Song of the Redbreast.

OW wearily and drearily the long, long night hath past,

But merrily and cheerily the morning smiles at last;

And though the frost be keen, and though the night be long,

I know that spring will come again, and sing my morning

song.

"No more 'mid clustering leaves or sweet flowers opening bright,

But underneath the eaves we spend the wintry night.

Instead of branches green waving above our head,
The icicles are seen hanging around our bed.

"When leaves began to fade and o'er the crisp ground fell, We left the wooded glade and haunts within the dell ; And as dark winter spread around his gray and chilling hue,

To sheltering roof and shed in haste we closer drew.

"I'm waiting till the spring with sun and falling showers The bursting leaves shall bring and all the opening flowers; And though the frost be keen, and though the night be long,

I know that spring will come again, and sing my morning song."