THE AVALANCHE. 



Of some malicious fate that seeks our hurt ; 



Viewed from a loftier vantage-ground of faith, 



With wider outlook of experience, 



Are seen to be but transient incidents 



In a great plan of loving-kindness, meant 



To make our whole life richer and more blest, 



And spread the fruitage of a heavenly love 



O'er deserts useless both to God and man. 



Beyond those hills that high as mountains rise, 



And hem us in, and darken all our sky, 



Stretch the fair lands which these white realms make 



green, 



The watered gardens, whose serener heavens 

 Through distant storms have gained a purer blue. 

 Why should a living man complain, whose life 

 Transcends the limits of all mortal woe, 

 And ranges far beyond, where absolute 

 And everlasting compensations are ! 



