1 Corinthians Xiii. 11. Poem by Mary Anne Browne

To sit amongst the emerald grass,
Beside the clear and placid brook;
To watch the little rivulets pass,
Eddying within some mossy nook;
To lie beneath the dim green shade
Made by the arching forest boughs;
To feel the quiet shadow laid
Calmly upon my childish brows,
And dreamily to watch the sky,
So blue, and beautiful, on high;
These were my pleasures, free and wild,
While I was yet a thoughtless child.

And then I felt, but did not know,
How holy was the spell that wrought
Upon my soul, subduing so
To calmness, every feverish thought ;
I did not know that God's own power
Was in the low and soothing wind;
That He who closed at eve each flower,
Shut up the passions in my mind:
I knew the world was beautiful,
I feft that Nature's peace could lull;
I sat upon the flowery sod,
And looked to Heaven, but knew not God.

Now childish dreams have passed away;
Thanks be to God, that I have learnt,
When the fair scenes shall all decay,
For which the young, warm spirit burnt,
Holier and brighter shall appear,
Of which the voiceless images,
Tracing out Heaven's pure glory here,
Upon a sorrowing world, are these.
I see those glories vague and dim,
As o'er the rainbow's vivid rim
Another arch seems shadowed forth,
Fainter, and farther from the earth!

And putting off my childish things,
Now that I am no more a child,
God keep my spirit's new fledged wings,
By all earth's darkness undefiled!
Teach me to love the flowers, and trees,
And brawling brook, and quiet well,
Even as my wont; but most that these
Are types of things invisible,—
Of Faith, of Hope, of streams of Life,
Of souls undimmed with stain or strife;
Yea, let me purely love them still,
But, in obedience to Thy will.