PRESENT, PAST, AND FUTURE.
By Emily L. Canright
Away in the eastern horizon,
The pale moon rises in sight,
Casting o'er forest and meadow
A flood of silvery light.
I sit by my window dreaming;
Of the past and the future I dream;
The future no prophet revealing,
The past, oh! the past I have seen. Deep down in my heart is a sadness,
For the long, golden days that are fled,
For the time I have foolishly wasted,
For the fond cherished hopes that are dead.
For the harsh words hastily spoken,
(Oh! would they were only a few!)
For the promises made to be broken,
And the duties neglected to do. The future, the dim, distant future,
Its workings I cannot foresee,
Then help me, my Father in Heaven,
That I may trust wholly in thee.
Henceforth let me be but a pilgrim,
A stranger indeed while below,
And lay up my treasure in Heaven;
And there let me finally go.