Gems In Verse

If mon oared loss for wealth and fame. And less for battleflelda and glory; If writ in biimaii lieartB a name Seemed better thaii in song or story; limen instead of nursing pride Would learn to hato it and abhor it; If more relied On Love to guide, Tlie world would ba tho better for it. If men dealt less in stocks and lands, And more in bonds and deeds fraternal: If Lovo's work had more willing hands To link this world with the supernal; If men stored up Lovo's oil and wine And on. bruised human hearts would pour If "yours" ttn(j "mine" Would once combine, The world would bo the better for it. If moro would act tho play of Life, And fewer spoil it in rehearsal: If Blgotry would .shunt h its knife Tiü good beoame moro universal; If Oustom, gray with ages grown. Had fewer blind men to udore it - If Talent shone In Truth alone, The world would be the better for it. If men were wise in little things- Aftecting less in all their dealings; If liearts had fewer rusted strings To isolate their kindred feelings; If men, when Wrong beats down tho Right, Would strike together to restore it- If Rlght made Might In every fight, Tho world would bo the better for it. -M. H. Cobb. When M.l Jack Dled. When Old Jack died we staid fromschool (they said At home we needn't go that day), and none Of us ate any breakfast- only one. And that was papa- and his eyes were red When he carne round wuere we were, by the Bhed MTicre Jack was lying, half way in the sun And half way in the skatle. When we begun To cry out loud, pa turned and dropped his head And went away: and mamma, she went back Into the kitchen. Then, for a long whlle. All to ourselves like, we stood there and cried; We thought somany good thingsof Old Jack, And funny things- although we didn't BtllÜC Wo couldn't only cry when Old Jack died. When Old Jack died it seemed a human friend Had suddenly gone frooi ua; that some face That we had loved to fondle and embrace From babyhood no more would condescend To smilo on us forever. We might bend With tearful eyes above him, interlace Our chubby fingers o'er him, romp and race, Plead witli him, cali and co&x - aye, we might send The old halloo np for him, whistle, hist (If sobs lial lot us), or, is wildly rain, Snuppcd thambe, called "Speak,"and ha had not replied; We raight have gone down on our knees and kissed The tousled ears, and yet theymustremain Deaf, motionless, we koew, when Old Jack died. When Old Jack died itseemed to us, some way, That all the other dogs in town were pained With our bereavement, and some that were chaiiK'il Even unslipped their collars on that day To visit Jack in state, as though to pay A last Bad tribute tkere; while neighbor3 craned Their heads above the hieh board fence. and deigned To sigh "Foor dog!" remembering how they Ilad cuffed hiin wlien alive, perchance, beeause, For love of them. he lcaped to lick their hands - Now that be ccmld not, were they satisfled? We childreu thought that, as we crossed hia laivs, And o'er h3 grave, 'way down the bottom lands, Wrote"Our First Love Lies Here," when Old Jack died. - James Whitcornb Riley. Wlien I Am Dead. When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou uo roses at my head. Nor shady eypress tree. Be the green grass above me Wit U showers and dewdrop wet. And if thou wilt, remember, And if tkou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows; I shall not feel the rain; I shall rot hear the nightingale Kiag on as if in paiu. And Oreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, líaply I uiay forget. - Christina G. Rosscttt Love. See! the ep.rth fr.rough the infinito spaces goes Bilently round and round. And tlie moon moveth on through the heavens and never maketh a sound. And the wheels of eternity traverse their journey in stillness profound. 'Ti3 only the barren breakers that bellow on barren shore: 'Tfa only the braggart thunders that rumble and rage and roar. Lüe a wave is the love that babblea, but silent love lovea evermore. - Alfred Austia. WUere lie Was Found. The parish priest Of Austerlitz Cliiubed up in a high church steeple To be nearer God, So that he niight hand His word down to his peoplo. And in sermón script He daily wrote What he thought was sent f rom hea ven; And ho dropt this down On his Deoule'B heads Two times one day in seven. In nis rage God said, "Come down and die:" And he cried out from the steeple, "Where art tliou, Lord?" And the Lord replied, "Down here among my people." - Pittsburg Dispatch. Dearest Kot Coatllest. Those are vulgar things we pay for, be they stones for crowns of kings; While the precious and the peerless are unpriced, symbolio things. Lovers do not speak with jewels- flowers alone can plead for them. And one fragrant memory cherished is far dearer than a geni. -John Boyle O'ReiUy. Woxnan. O woman, born flrst to believe us; Yea, also born flrat to forget; Born first to betray and deceive us Yet flrst to repent and regretl Oh, tlrst, then, in all that is human. Lol flrst where the Nazareno trod; 0 womanl O beautif ui womanl Be, then, flrst in the kingdom of God. - Joaquín TVTï ht, Bo Far. Asketh how near is Paradisc, thou who for it has striven? How far soe'er from Truth thou art, bo far art thou from heaven. -Chicago Inter-Ocean. The Si leut Part Is Best. Of every noble work the silent part Is best- Of all expressiou, that which canaot be exnroMAd Bound in oloth- Mummiee.