ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
I99 
THE IVY. 
P USHING the clods of earth aside. 
Leaving the dark where foul things hide, 
Spreading its leaves to the summer sun, 
Bondage ended, freedom won ; 
So, my soul, like the ivy be, 
Rise, for the sunshine calls for thee ! 
Climbing up as the seasons go, 
Looking down upon things below, 
Twining itself in the branches high, 
As if the frail thing owned the sky; 
So my soul, like the ivy be, 
Heaven, not earth, is the place for thee. 
Wrapping itself round the giant oak, 
Hiding itself from the tempest’s stroke; 
Strong and brave is the fragile thing, 
For it knows one secret, how to cling. 
So, my soul, there’s strength for thee. 
Hear the Mighty One : “ Lean on me.” 
Green are its leaves when the world is white, 
For the ivy sings through the frosty night; 
Keeping the hearts of oak awake, 
Till the flowers shall bloom and the spring shall break ; 
So, my soul, through the winter’s rain, 
Sing the sunshine back again. 
Opening its green and fluttering breast. 
Giving the timid birds a nest; 
Coming out from the winter wild, 
To make a wreath for the Holy Child ; 
So, let my life like the ivy be, 
A help to man and a wreath for Thee ! 
Henry Burton 
“ Take whatever God sends, 
As the blossoming pansies do : 
He clothes them with royal grace ; 
Shall he not take thought for you ? 
Trust — for the trustful heart 
Knoweth the tenderest leading, 
Knoweth how certainly God 
Our need and our craving is heeding.” 
