Rebuke

Tlie worlcl is old aud the ■vorld Is cold, And oever a day is fair, I satd. Out of the henvens the suullglit rollcd, The green lea ves rustled above my head, And the sea was a se i oí' gold. The worlil is cruel, I su! a-ain, Her volco is barak to my slmnkins ear, And the nijjhts are dreary and full of pain, Out of the darkness sweet and clear There rlppled a tender struin. Rippled the song of a btrd aslcep, Thut Siiiig in a dreura of the bndding wood, Of shlnlng fields where tlie reapers reap, Oí' a wee browu mate and a nestling brood, And the graas where the berries pcep. Tlie world is false thouh the world be fair, ; And never a beart is pure, I sakl. And lo ! tlie elinging of white arnis bare, The Innocent ;oUI of my babv's hair, And the lisp of a chlldlsh pmyer.