"out Of The Mouth Of Babes."

My little atece and I - I read My Plato in iny eaay cha-ir ; And Bbc was building on tbr floor A pack of carde with wondrous care. We worked in silence, bat alas Ü Among the cards i mighty spill, Aüd thon the little ape exelaimed, " Well ! Snch is life ï Look, Unclc WiU " I gave a start and dropprd iny book- It was " Phsedo " I had road - sympathie currrnt thrillrd Like lightning thröugh my heart&nd hcad. I od with cTirious awe the child, Tho unconbcious sibyl, wlicre nhc Rat, WhoBfl thoughtle8s tonglie oould babblc forth Ktrange purnblcs oi lifojnnd fatc. Yes, Bttóh is life ! a Babel liouso, A common doom hath tninbled a.11," KJug, Queen and Kiutve, and ithiin, tïïd trUmp, A motley wew in EDtiuey'faU ! We rear (rti hopes, no Pliaraoh's tonib," Nor braHK could ouüd so siire a name"; But, Boon or Jate, a BUÖ itillapsf, And great the ruin of the same. Ah, tmch ík life ! Oh, sadund strange That Lovc nd Wisdom so ordain ! Some ere the BuilderV hand have yct Oe card agninbt anothcr ;iin ; Some when the honse ie tiny Ptill ; Some when you've built a little more ; Aud some when patience hath achieved A second, third, or higlier floor. Or Hhould you win the topmost stage, Yet i the titrength but toil and pain- And here the tiny volee rejoined, " But I can build it up again." My hoight of awe was renched. ('in babcs Bchold what reason ecans in vain ? Aht childhood íb divine, I thought - Yen, Lizzie, build it up again I