Poems

A Message from the Workshop

AGNES FLORIDA CHALMERS.

THOSE silent years the Master toiled,—when he, The well-beloved, bent with patient careO'er plane and work-bench, oftentimes for me,— God's hand marks their design.

Poem

Lincoln, the Man of the People

Edward Markham

The color of the ground was in him, the red earth;The tang and odor of the primal things—The rectitude and patience of the rocks;The gladness of the wind that shakes the corn;The courage of the bird that dares the sea;The justice of the rain that loves all leaves;The pity of the snow that hides all scars;The loving-kindness of the wayside well;The tolerance and equity of lightThat gives as freely to the shrinking weedAs to the great oak flaring to the wind—To the grave's low hill as to the MatterhornThat shoulders out the sky.

Poem

Our Father

GERTRUDE RING.

Do we not all remember the dark night,When dismal dreams had caused us nervous start,That we cried, "Father, father," in our frightAnd were clasped safe against the parent heart?

Poem

Our Handiwork

Anon with contributions from Emerson

Better to weave in the web of lifeA bright and golden filling.

Poem

The Ever-coming Christ

C. VIOLET SPILLER.

The watchful shepherds heard the songWhose echoes ne'er can ceaseTill all the world shall be attunedTo that sweet song of peace.

Poem

His Own are Fed

KATHERINE J. SMITH.

To-day, from far Tiberian coast.

Poem

O Guiding Love

GERTRUDE RING

One there was told me that the polar starStands sentinel by day as well as night,Drawing the needle of the marinerTo guide him when he may not see its light.