NATHAN HASKELL DOLE
THE ROAD BEYOND THE TOWN
A ROAD goes up a pleasant hill,
And a little house looks down:
Ah! but I see the roadway still
And the day I left the town.
The day I left my father's home,
It's many a year ago,
And a heart and hope were brave to roam
the long, long road I know.
The long, long road by hill and plain,
It's tired the heart might be:
But hope stayed bright in sun or rain,
And a Voice that called to me.
A Voice that called me over the hill
And out of the little town:
Ah! but I see the roadway still.
And the good house looking down.
The house that spake me never a No!
As I started brave away,
But said with a blessing, Go!
And followed me every day.
It followed me down the road of years,
For a father's heart is true,
And joy is sweet in a mother's tears
For the deeds her child may do.
The poor little deeds, all powerless
For the Kingdom of God would be,
Save in His mercy will He bless
The road that goes with me:
The road that left a pleasant hill,
Where a little house looks down:
Ah! but I bless the roadway still,
And the land beyond the town.
MICHAEL EARLS, S.J.
THE LILAC
THE scent of lilac in the air
Hath made him drag his steps and pause
Whence comes this scent within the Square,
Where endless dusty traffic roars?
A push-cart stands beside the curb,
With fragrant blossoms laden high;
Speak low, nor stare, lest we disturb
His sudden reverie!
He sees us not, nor heeds the din
Of clanging car and scuffling throng;
His eyes see fairer sights within,
And memory hears the robin's song
As once it trilled against the day,
And shook his slumber in a room
Where drifted with the breath of May
The lilac's sweet perfume.
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