WATCHED as lo a trail of lingering light Showed where the moon her silvery form had hid den, Till this was too withdrawn black grew the night, And dark the clouds rolled past, by storm-elves rid den. Then sudden, in a rift, her beams shone through More glorious bright by far than mid a starry blue. A tree was planted on a lonely height By desolating storm oft devastated The rudest winds the sapling needs must fight To human judgment, certain death awaited. But nay for in the storm which fiercest blew It sank its roots more deep, and stronger, hardier grew. A barren stick apparently a thorn, Which unmolested stood amidst the roses, Why leave it there It never can adorn So fair a garden scene Yet it discloses, As time goes on, a rare and fragrant flower, And now it stands admired, most beauteous of the bower. A little seed which under foot was cast Had long within the cold, damp ground been lying Perchance it thought, My usefulness is past Forgotten am I here, alone, and dying. But from it sprang a plant exceeding fair, With leafy, spreading boughs, and birds sought shel ter there. A covered cage a little bird within, Who chirped his protest gainst the dark seclusion, Remembering happy days which once had been, Of freedom, light, and blossoms in profusion. But in that waiting time, so dark, so long, With all the world shut out, he found his gift of song. A maiden, seated at the ivory keys Her discontent but illy she disguises No value in repeated scales she sees, No beauty in the simple exercises. Time wasted, think you Look again, and see Musician who can wake divinest melody A life from which the joy had ebbed away And left but pain and aching void behind it A hungring, through long nights and many a day, For rest and peace if one could only find it Then came there One who saw the vacant place He filled it with His love and crowned it with His grace. O heart perplexed and weary, upward look Hope on, nor longer spend thy time complaining Thy experiences and trials are the book From which God teaches in thy course of training. For life is but a school, and not in vain That looked upon as loss may mean but larger gain. The office, sickroom, field, or prison cell, Are but the classrooms where the Master teaches, And if we learn the lessons ill, or well, Yet through it all His love to each one reaches In love were placed according to our need, And how we spend the time is all that counts indeed. What seems to human eyes as but defeat, When all ones plans, ones hopes, lie crushed and smitten, As real success as victory complete May yet in Heavens book above be written, And there some day, in Heavens light made clear, Well see as then they are the things so puzzling here. Look Beyond WHEN the clouds are dark, and hanging low about thy way, Look beyond the shadows to the land of perfect day Think of One who for thyself a deeper sorrow bore, Think of endless life with Him where pain shall come no more. Look beyond the shadows to the dawn of perfect day When a God of love Himself shall wipe all tears away Where the mists shall vanish, and the dark things be made known, Where earths worn and weary ones no more shall walk alone. Look beyond the shadow There is light the other side Daylight that is lasting joys that evermore abide. Look beyond the shadow when the prospect seemeth drear Light beyond will compensate for all the gloom down here. Look beyond the shadows But and should they chance to be Far too deep for human eyes the light beyond to see, Lose not then thy hope, but hold by faith the promise fast Morning surely cometh when the shades of night are past...