<h3><SPAN name="Jesus_the_Carpenter" id="Jesus_the_Carpenter"></SPAN>Jesus the Carpenter.</h3>
<div class="pre_poem"><p>"Jesus the Carpenter"—"same trade as me"—strikes a high note in
favour of honest toil. (1848-.)</p>
</div>
<table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Isn't this Joseph's son?"—ay, it is He;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Joseph the carpenter—same trade as me—<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I thought as I'd find it—I knew it was here—<br/></span>
<span class="i4">But my sight's getting queer.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">I don't know right where as His shed must ha' stood—<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But often, as I've been a-planing my wood,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I've took off my hat, just with thinking of He<br/></span>
<span class="i4">At the same work as me.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">He warn't that set up that He couldn't stoop down<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And work in the country for folks in the town;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And I'll warrant He felt a bit pride, like I've done,<br/></span>
<span class="i4">At a good job begun.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">The parson he knows that I'll not make too free,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But on Sunday I feels as pleased as can be,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">When I wears my clean smock, and sits in a pew,<br/></span>
<span class="i4">And has taught a few.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">I think of as how not the parson hissen,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">As is teacher and father and shepherd o' men,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Not he knows as much of the Lord in that shed,<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Where He earned His own bread.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">And when I goes home to my missus, says she,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">"Are ye wanting your key?"<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For she knows my queer ways, and my love for the shed<br/></span>
<span class="i4">(We've been forty years wed).<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">So I comes right away by mysen, with the book,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And I turns the old pages and has a good look<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For the text as I've found, as tells me as He<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Were the same trade as me.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Why don't I mark it? Ah, many say so,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But I think I'd as lief, with your leaves, let it go:<br/></span>
<span class="i0">It do seem that nice when I fall on it sudden—<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Unexpected, you know!<br/></span></div>
</td></tr></table>
<p class="quotsig"><span class="smcap">Catherine C. Liddell.</span></p>
<h3><SPAN name="Lettys_Globe" id="Lettys_Globe"></SPAN>Letty's Globe.</h3>
<div class="pre_poem"><p>"Letty's Globe" gives us the picture of a little golden-haired girl who
covers all Europe with her dainty hands and tresses while giving a kiss
to England, her own dear native land. (1808-79.)</p>
</div>
<table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">When Letty had scarce pass'd her third glad year,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And her young, artless words began to flow,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">One day we gave the child a colour'd sphere<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of the wide earth, that she might mark and know,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">By tint and outline, all its sea and land.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">She patted all the world; old empires peep'd<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Between her baby fingers; her soft hand<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Was welcome at all frontiers. How she leap'd,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And laugh'd and prattled in her world-wide bliss!<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But when we turn'd her sweet unlearned eye<br/></span>
<span class="i0">On our own isle, she rais'd a joyous cry,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">"Oh! yes, I see it! Letty's home is there!"<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And, while she hid all England with a kiss,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Bright over Europe fell her golden hair!<br/></span></div>
</td></tr></table>
<p class="quotsig"><span class="smcap">Charles Tennyson Turner.</span></p>
<h3><SPAN name="A_Dream" id="A_Dream"></SPAN>A Dream.</h3>
<table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Once a dream did wave a shade<br/></span>
<span class="i0">O'er my angel-guarded bed,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">That an emmet lost its way<br/></span>
<span class="i0">When on grass methought I lay.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Troubled, 'wildered, and forlorn,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Dark, benighted, travel-worn,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Over many a tangled spray,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">All heart-broke, I heard her say:<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Oh, my children! do they cry?<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Do they hear their father sigh?<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Now they look abroad to see.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Now return and weep for me."<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Pitying, I dropped a tear;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But I saw a glow-worm near,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Who replied, "What wailing wight<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Calls the watchman of the night?<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"I am set to light the ground<br/></span>
<span class="i0">While the beetle goes his round.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Follow now the beetle's hum—<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Little wanderer, hie thee home!"<br/></span></div>
</td></tr></table>
<p class="quotsig"><span class="smcap">William Blake.</span></p>
<h3><SPAN name="Heaven_Is_Not_Reached_at_a_Single_Bound" id="Heaven_Is_Not_Reached_at_a_Single_Bound"></SPAN>Heaven Is Not Reached at a Single Bound.<br/><span class="subtitle">(A FRAGMENT.)</span></h3>
<div class="pre_poem"><p>"We build the ladder by which we climb" is a line worthy of any poet.
J. G. Holland (1819-81) has immortalised himself in this line, at least.</p>
</div>
<table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Heaven is not reached at a single bound,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">But we build the ladder by which we rise<br/></span>
<span class="i2">From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And we mount to its summit round by round.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">I count this thing to be grandly true:<br/></span>
<span class="i2">That a noble deed is a step toward God,—<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Lifting the soul from the common clod<br/></span>
<span class="i0">To a purer air and a broader view.<br/></span></div>
</td></tr></table>
<p class="quotsig"><span class="smcap">J. G. Holland.</span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />