Do ye hers,

        Ere th years?

        t thers---

        And t ot stop tears.

        ting in the meadows;

        t;

        the shadows;

        to---

        But thers,

        tterly!---

        time of thers

        In try of the free.

        Do you question the sorrow,

        ears are falling so?---

        to-morrow

        in Long Ago---

        tree is leafless in t---

        t---

        tri, is t---

        t to be lost:

        But thers,

        Do you ask tand

        eeping sore before thers,

        In our herland?

        their pale and sunken faces,

        And to see,

        For t, draresses

        Dohe cheeks of infancy---

        "Your old eart; t;is very dreary;"

        "Our you," t;are very weak!

        Fe are weary?

        rave-rest is very far to seek.

        Ask t the children,

        For tside earth is cold,---

        And and , in our bewildering,

        And the old.

        "true," say t;it may happen

        t ime.

        Little Alice died last year---the grave is shapen

        Like a snohe rime.

        e looked into t prepared to take her---

        as no room for any he close clay:

        From th none will wake her

        g, Get up, little Alice! it is day.

        If you listen by t grave, in sun and shower,

        ittle Aliever cries!---

        Could we see    know her,

        For time frowing in her eyes---

        And merry go s, lulled and stilled in

        the kirk-chime!

        It is good he children,

        "t ime."

        Alas, alas, they are seeking

        Deat to have!

        ts away from breaking,

        it from the grave.

        Go out, cy---

        Sing out, ctle thrushes do---

        Pluck your ty---

        Laugo feel your fingers let through!

        But t;Are your eadows

        Like our he mine?

        Leave us quiet in the coal-shadows,

        From your pleasures fair and fine!

        "For o; say t;we are weary,

        And    run or leap---

        If    were merely

        to drop dohem and sleep.

        Our kremble sorely in tooping---

        e fall upon our faces, trying to go;

        And, underh our heavy eyelids drooping,

        t flower would look as pale as snow.

        For, all day, iring,

        the coal-dark, underground---

        Or, all day, he wheels of iron

        In tories, round and round.

        "For, all day, turning,---

        their wind es in our faces,---

        till our s turn,---our h pulses burning,

        And turn in their places---

        turns the high window blank and reeling---

        turns t t droppethe wall---

        turn t crahe ceiling---

        All are turning, all th all.---

        And, all day, the iron wheels are droning;

        And sometimes we could pray,

        O ye w in a mad moaning)

        Stop! be silent for to-day! "

        Ay! be silent! Let thing

        For a moment, mouto mouth---

        Let toug

        Of tender h!

        Let t tallic motion

        Is not all the life God fashions or reveals---

        Let t tion

        t they live in you, os under you, O wheels!---

        Still, all day, the iron wheels go onward,

        Grinding life dos mark;

        And the childrens souls, which God is calling sunward,

        Spin on blindly in the dark.

        hers,

        to look up to him and pray---

        So thers,

        ill bless ther day.

        t; he should hear us,

        e tirred?

        ures near us

        Pass by, , or ans a word!

        And heir resounding)

        Strangers speaking at the door:

        Is it likely God, h angels singing round him,

        hears our weeping any more?

        "two words, indeed, of praying we remember,

        And at midnights hour of harm,---

        Our Fathe chamber,

        e say softly for a charm.

        e kno Our Father,

        And , in some pause of angels song,

        God may pluck t to gather,

        And    rong.

        Our Father! If he heard us, he would surely

        (For they call him good and mild)

        Anseep world very purely,

        e a h me, my child.

        "But no!" say ter,

        "one;

        And tell us, of er

        o work on.

        Go to!" say t;Up in heaven,

        Dark, wurning clouds are all we find.

        Do not mock us; grief has made us unbelieving---

        e look up fod, but tears ;

        Do you he children weeping and disproving,

        O my brot ye preach?

        Fods possible is taught by his worlds loving---

        And t of each.

        And he children weep before you;

        they run;

        the glory

        er the sun:

        t not the wisdom;

        t its calm---

        Are slaves,    ty in ,---

        Are martyrs, by t the palm,---

        Are    urievingly

        No dear remembrance keep,---

        Are orphly love and heavenly:

        Let t them weep!

        their pale and sunken faces,

        And to see,

        For their places,

        it for Deity;---

        "; t;ion,

        ill you stand, to move t,

        Stifle dos palpitation,

        And tread ono your t?

        Our blood splasyrants,

        And your purple sh;

        But the silence

        trong man in ;
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