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THE TEACHER'S DREAM.
And, walking home, his heart was full
Of peace and trust and love and praise; And singing slow and soft and low,
He murmured, “ After many days."
THE MEETING OF THE WATERS.
There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet,
Yet it was not that Nature had shed o'er the scene
-it was something more exquisite still.
'Twas that friends, the belov’d of my bosom, were near, Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear, And who felt how the best charms of nature improve, When we see them reflected from looks that we love.
Sweet vale of Avoca! how calm could I rest
THE LOST CHORD.
A. A. PROCTER.
Seated one day at the organ,
I was weary and ill at ease, And my fingers wandered idly
Over the noisy keys.
I do not know what I was playing,
Or what I was dreaming then; But I struck one chord of music,
Like the sound of a great Amen!
It flooded the crimson twilight,
Like the close of an angel's psalm, And it lay on my fevered spirit
With a touch of infinite calm.
It quieted pain and sorrow,
Like love overcoming strife; It seemed the harmonious echo
From our discordant life.
It linked all perplexed meanings
Into one perfect peace,
And trembled away into silence
As if it were loth to cease.
I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
That one lost chord divine, That came from the soul of the organ,
And entered into mine.
EXTRACTS FROM “L’ALLEGRO.”
ASTE thee, nymph, and bring with thee
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
To hear the lark begir. his flight,