With despair and disaster.
Turn it--and, lo!

The design of the Master!
The Lord 's at the loom !

Room for Him-room!

MARY A. LATHBURY.

Spero.

As dawns the morn o'er hills of haze,
As flowers follow winter snow,

As strength returns to him whose days
Grew long beneath the feebling blow
Of fever's slow-consuming pain,
As sunshine follows after rain—
So surely comes the brighter time,
The warmer love, the holier heart,
The calmer season, friendlier clime,
The wiser mind, the better part!
When ancient wickedness shall cease
And warriors learn the arts of peace,
Each morn beholds some progress made;
Each noontide sees a broader sky;
Each twilight sees some error fade;
Each evening, some deception die.

CHARLES C. ALBERTSON

Tomorrow.

High hopes that burned like stars sublime
Go down the heavens of freedom,
And true hearts perish in the time
We bitterliest need them.
But never sit we down and say:

"There's nothing left but sorrow."
We walk the wilderness today-
The Promised Land tomorrow.

Our birds of song are silent now;
There are no flowers blooming.
But life beats in the frozen bough,
And freedom's spring is coming.
And freedom's tide comes up alway,
Though we may strand in sorrow;
And our good barque, aground today,
Shall float again tomorrow.

Our hearts brood o'er the past; our eyes
With smiling futures glisten.

Lo! now its dawn bursts up the sky!
Lean out your souls and listen!
The earth rolls freedom's radiant way,
And ripens with our sorrow;
And 'tis the martyrdom today
Brings victory tomorrow.

Tis weary watching wave by wave,

And yet the tide heaves onward.

We climb, like corals, grave by grave;
Yet beat a pathway sunward.
We're beaten back in many a fray,
Yet newer strength we borrow;
And where our vanguard rests today.
Our rear shall rest tomorrow.

Through all the long, dark night of years
The people's cry ascended;

The earth was wet with blood and tears
Ere the meek sufferings ended.
The few shall not for ever sway,
The many toil in sorrow.

The bars of hell are strong today,

But Christ shall reign tomorrow.

Then youth, flame earnest, still aspire
With energies immortal;

To many a haven of desire

Your yearning opes a portal.
And though age wearies by the way,
And hearts break in the furrow,
We sow the golden grain today—

The harvest comes tomorrow.

GERALD MASSEY.

By and By.

Down the stream where the tide is clearer,
Farther on where the shores are fair,

Are the gracious forms we would fain be nearer,

The names we breathe in the voice of prayer. Be the voyage long, they will be the dearer

When after a while we shall greet them there, Farther on, where the tide is clearer,

Down the stream where the shores are fair.

By and by when the sun is shining,

After a while when the skies are blue,
When the clouds unfold their silver lining
And the peaceful isles drift into view,
We shall free our tongues from dull repining,
And our hearts with the joys of youth renew,
After a while when the sun is shining-

By and by when the skies are blue.

NIXON WATERMAN.

New Every Morning.

Every day is a fresh beginning;

Every morn is a world made new.

You, who are weary of sorrow and sinning,
Here is a beautiful hope for you—
A hope for me and a hope for you.

All the past things are passed over;

The tasks are done, and the tears are shed. Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover;

Yesterday's wounds, which smarted and bled, Are healed with the healing that night has shed.

Yesterday now is a part of forever,

Bound up in a sheaf, which God holds tight

With glad days and sad days and bad days, which never Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight, Their fullness of sunshine and sorrowful night.

Let them go, since we can not recall them;

Can not find and can not atone.

God in His mercy receive, forgive them!
Only the new days are our own-
Today is ours, and today alone.

Here are the skies all burnished brightly;
Here is the spent earth all reborn;
Here are the tired limbs springing lightly

To face the sun and to share with the morn
In the chrism of dew and the cool of dawn.

Every day is a fresh beginning!

Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And spite of old sorrow and older sinning
And puzzles forecasted and possible pain,
Take heart with the day, and begin again.

SUSAN COOLIDGE.

Old and New.

Oh, sometimes gleams upon our sight,
Through present wrong, the eternal Right;
And step by step, since time began,
We see the steady gain of man.

That all of good the past hath had
Remains to make our own time glad,