its hands and eyes in constant expeditions of dis

covery, and crows, and leaps, from the excess of animal contentment, it becomes an object of in

definable and powerful interest, to which all the

sympathies of our nature attach us,

-

an object at once of curiosity and tenderness, interesting as it is in its helplessness and innocence, doubly interesting from its prospects and destiny; interesting to a philosopher, doubly interesting to a Christian.

BABIE BELL.

THE POEM OF A LITTLE LIFE THAT WAS BUT THREE

APRILS LONG.

"If she had lived, I think she would have been

Lilies without, and roses within."

HAVE you not heard the poet tell
How came the dainty Babie Bell

Into this world of ours?

The gates of Heaven were left ajar:

With folded hands and dreamy eyes

Wandering out of Paradise,

She saw this planet, like a star,

Hung in the purple depths of even,Its bridges, running to and fro,

O'er which the white winged Angels go,

Bearing the holy Dead to Heaven.

She touched a bridge of flowers, — those feet

So light, they did not bend the bells
Of the celestial asphodels

They fell like dew upon the flowers,

And all the air grew strangely sweet!

And thus came dainty Babie Bell

Into this world of ours.

She came and brought delicious May.
The swallows visit beneath the eaves;

Like sunlight in and out the leaves,

The robins went, the livelong day;
The lily swung its noiseless bell,

And o'er the porch the trembling vine
Seemed bursting with its veins of wine!

How sweetly, softly, twilight fell!
O, earth was full of singing birds,

And happy spring-tide flowers,

When the dainty Babie Bell

Came to this world of ours!

O Babie, dainty Babie Bell! How fair she grew from day to day!

What woman nature filled her eyes,
What poetry within them lay!

Those deep and tender twilight eyes,
So full of meaning, pure and bright
As if she yet stood in the light

Of those oped gates of Paradise!

And we loved Babie more and more;

Ah, never in our hearts before

Was love so lovely born!

We felt we had a link between

This real world and that unseen,

The land beyond the morn!

And for love of those dear eyes,

For love of her whom God led forth,

(The mother's being ceased on earth When Babie came from Paradise!) For love of Him who smote our lives,

And woke the chords of joy and pain,

We said, "Sweet Christ!" -our hearts bent

down

Like violets after rain.

And now the orchards, which in June
Were white and rosy in their bloom
Filling the crystal veins of air

With gentle pulses of perfume Were rich in Autumn's mellow prime,

The plums were globes of honeyed wine, The hivéd sweets of summer-time!

The ivory chestnut burst its shell;

The soft-cheeked peaches blushed and fell.
The grapes were purpling in the grange,
And time wrought just as rich a change
In little Babie Bell!

Her tiny form more perfect grew,

And in her feature we could trace,

In softened curves, her mother's face!

Her angel nature ripened too.

We thought her lovely when she came,
But she was holy, saintly now....

Around her pale, angelic brow

We saw a slender ring of flame!

God's hand had taken away the seal

Which held the portals of her speech;

And oft she said a few strange words,

Whose meaning lay beyond our reach.

She never was a child to us,

We never held her being's key!
We could not teach her holy things:
She was Christ's self in purity!

It came upon us by degrees;

We saw its shadow ere it fell, The knowledge that our God had sent His messenger for Babie Bell!

We shuddered with unlanguaged pain,

And all our hopes were changed to fears,

And all our thoughts ran into tears,

Like sunshine into rain!

66

We cried aloud in our belief,

“O, smite us gently, gently, God! Teach us to bend and kiss the rod,

And perfect grow through grief." Ah! how we loved her God, can tell; Her little heart was cased in ours!

Our hearts are broken, Babie Bell!

At last he came, the messenger,

The messenger from unseen lands:

And what did dainty Babie Bell?

She only crossed her little hands,