27 OCTOBER 1888, Page 15

GAIN.

SOMETHING has come : I felt it yestereve

The lark on high was singing, The happy church-bells ringing ; How could I grieve ?

I could not grieve.

An old man weary lay; I lifted up his burden, He blessed me, and in guerdon Mine slipped away.

It slipped away.

There came a child in pain ; I soothed it, and soon after A burst of April laughter Followed the rain.

How could I grieve ?

0 blessed human heart ! That in the joy of giving Rant found the bliss of living, Up, play thy part!

Strive, and not rest !

Rest here below is none. Beneath a. sky o'erarching The hosts of men are marching : Angels look on.

Yet not in dark, Nor wholly sad thy way ; But here in sunny meadows, There overcast with shadows ;