Then mourn not death; 'tis but a stair Built with divinest art,

Up which the deathless footsteps climb

Of loved ones who depart.

LIGHT ON THE CLOUD.

It is dark on only the downward side;
Though rage the tempest loud,
And scatter its terrors far and wide,
There's light upon the cloud.

And often, when it traileth low,
Shutting the landscape out,
And only the chilly east-winds blow
From the foggy seas of doubt,

sky,

There's never a vale so fair, But over it sometimes shadows lie In a chill and songless air.

But never a cloud o'erhung the day,
And flung its shadows down,
But on its heaven-side gleamed some

ray

Forming a sunshine crown.

sun,

When the joys of life seem few, A rift will break in the evening dim, And the golden light stream through.

And the soul a glorious bridge will

make

Out of the golden bars, And all its priceless treasures take Where shine the eternal stars.