The Bible Story Part 115

By permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

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KINDNESS

A little word in kindness spoken, A motion or a tear, Has often healed the heart that's broken, And made a friend sincere.

A word--a look--has crushed to earth Full many a budding flower, Which, had a smile but owned its birth, Would bless life's darkest hour.

Then deem it not an idle thing A pleasant word to speak; The face you wear, the thoughts you bring, A heart may heal or break.

--_Colesworthy_.

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[Ill.u.s.tration]

MADONNA By Murillo (1618-1682)

"Bright angels are around thee, They that have served thee from thy birth are there; Their hands with stars have crowned thee; Thou, peerless Queen of Air, As sandals to thy feet the silver moon doth wear."

--_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_.

[End ill.u.s.tration]

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PERSEVERANCE

A swallow in the spring Came to our granary, and 'neath the eaves Essayed to make her nest, and there did bring Wet earth, and straw, and leaves.

Day after day she toiled With patient art; but ere her work was crowned Some sad mishap the tiny fabric spoiled And dashed it to the ground.

She found the ruin wrought; Yet not cast down, forth from her place she flew And with her mate fresh earth and gra.s.ses brought And built her nest anew.

But scarcely had she placed The last soft feather on its ample floor, When wicked hands, or chance, again laid waste, And wrought the ruin o'er.

But still her heart she kept And toiled again; and, last night hearing calls, I looked, and lo! three little swallows slept Within the earth-made walls.

What trust is here, O man!

Hath Hope been smitten in its early dawn?

Have clouds o'ercast thy purpose, trust, or plan?

Have faith, and struggle on!

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THE LIGHT OF STARS

The night is come, but not too soon; And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky.

There is no light in earth or heaven, But the cold light of stars; And the first watch of night is given To the red planet Mars.

Is it the tender star of love?

The star of love and dreams?

O no! from that blue tent above A hero's armor gleams.

And earnest thoughts within me rise, When I behold afar, Suspended in the evening skies The s.h.i.+eld of that red star.

O star of strength! I see thee stand And smile upon my pain; Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand, And I am strong again.

Within my breast there is no light, But the cold light of stars; I give the first watch of the night To the red planet Mars. {453}

The star of the unconquered will.

He rises in my breast Serene, and resolute, and still.

And calm, and self-possessed.

And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art That readest this brief psalm, As one by one thy hopes depart, Be resolute and calm.

O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know ere long, Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.

--_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_.

By permission of Houghton, Mifflin & CD.

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WE ARE SEVEN

I met a little cottage girl; She was eight years old she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That cl.u.s.tered round her head.

She had a rustic woodland air, And she was wildly clad; Her eyes were fair, and very fair, --Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?"

"How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.

"And who are they? I pray you tell."

She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell And two are gone to sea, Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell, Sweet maid, how this may be." {455}

Then did the little maid reply, "Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the churchyard lie Beneath the churchyard tree."

"You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"

The little maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.

"My stockings there I often knit, My kerchiefs there I hem; And there upon the ground I sit And sing a song to them.