THE SCHOOL OF SORROW.

Bt Adelaide Procter. I sat in the school of sorrow; The Matter was teaching there, But my eyea were dim with weeping, And my heart oppressed with care. Instead of looking upward, And seeing His face divine, So full of tender compassion, For weary hearts ljke mine. I thought only of the butden, The cross tbat before me lay, The cloud that hung thiok above me, Darkening the light of 3»y. So I could not lsarn my let son, And say, " Thy will be done;" / And the Master came not hear me, As the leaden hours wore on. At last in despair I lifted My streaming eyes above, And v saw the Master watching, With a look of pitying love. To the cross above me He pointed, And I thought I heard Him say : " My child, tbou must take thy burden, And learn thy task to-day.'-' j " Not now will I tell the reason— * 'Tig enough for thee to know That I, the Master, am teaching, And appoint thee all thy woe;" Then, kneeling, the cross I lifted; For one glanoe of that face divine Had given me strength to bear it, And say, " Thy will, not mine." And so I learaed my lesson; And through the weary years His helping hand sustained me, And wiped away my tears. And ever the golden sunlight From tbe heavenly home streamed down, Where the school tasks are all ended, And the cross is changed for the crown.