Gems In Verse

Astrale Llzette wasoul walking one dar, Attired n Ith great spl ■■. :..r in feetal array, S!ie mot 1 i 1 1 Ie fïretchen, iu sober huetd gown, With i baakétof eggs trudgiug off totho town. "Good morniüg! Gooü morning!" cried littlo Lizette, You iiavcn't been over lo visit me yet. Come uver and live uith me always, pray do, For 1 iiuvo no bisters; hov muny jave you?" "Nein," answered weeGretehen, Lizettecried, "Ah, in;! I Ii.im' tu pretend ! have sisters, you sec. But try iuj I will, [ cau't make it seum true. And I have no brothera. How many have you?" "Xein." answered wee Qretcnen. "Nine!" eehoed Lizette, "Why, j'ou are tho luckiest girl I have met! Aud have yon a baby :t honiu; tell me now?" "íícin," answered weo Gretcben, and made a tlroll buT'. Then lingoreil l.izette ly t,heroadsidthatdáy, J'o watch the p-ee maiden go trudgiu away. 'Ninebrotlii ters,' nine bables to'pct, Oh, I wish I as Urtohen!''lghed little Lizetlji. - Katherine S. Alcorn. A Letter. Dear, I tried t write yon sucha letter As vvould teD you all my heart today. Writteh Love is poor; one word vrere betten Easier, too, a Lhousand times, tosay. I can teil you all; fears, doubts unheeding, W'liile I can benear toyou, hold your hand. Looking rigbt into your eyes, and readiug IJeassurance üua you onderstand. Yet I rote it tlirough, túcn lingered, thinking Of its reaching you- what hour, what day; Till I felt my heart and dourage sinking With a strange, new, woudering dismay. "Will my letter fall," I wondored sadly, "On her mood Iike some discordant touo, Or be welcomed tenderly and gladly? Will she be wtth others, or aloue? "It may find her too absorbed to read it. Save with hun-ied glauee and careless air; 6ad and weary, she may scareely heed it; Gay and happy, she may hardly care. "Shall I- dare I- risk the chancea?" slowly Something- was it shyness, love, or pride?- Chilled my heart, and checked my courage wholly. So I laid it wistfully oside. Then I leant against the casement. turning Tearful eyes toward the far off west. V ñere the golden evening light was bnrning Till ray heart throbbod back again to rest. And I thought: "Love's soul is not in fetters, Neither space nor timo keeps souls apart; Since I cannot- dare not- send my letters, Through the silence I will send my heart. 'If, perhaps now, while my tears are falling, She is dreamiug quietly alone, She will hear my Love's far echo calling. Feel my spirit dranïug near her own. "She will hear, whilo twilight shades infold her. All the gathered Love she knows so well- Deepest Lovo my words have ever told her, Deeper still- all I could Qever teil. "Wondering at the stran.se, mysterious powej Thathaa tuuehcd her heart, theu she wiÜ eay: 'Somo one whora I love, this very hour Thinks of me, and loves me, far away.' "If, as weü may bo, tonight has found her Ful 1 of othcr thoughts, with others by, Tbrough Üie word aiid claims that gather round her Sho will huar just ons lialf-smothered sigb.; "Or wïU marvel why, without herseekiug, Saddenly Ule thoughtoí me reeurs; Or, vvhilo listsning to anoiber speakiTii', Fancy tbat niy band islboldiüg hers." Sol dreamed.and watched the stars' farsnlendor, GUmmering on tho azuro darkness, start, While tho star of trust rose bright and tender Through the twilight shadows of myheart. - Adelaido A. Prootp.r. My Familiar. I called him "Aspiration" when he carne Aud whtepered softly in my willing ear: "Oh, foolish sou], why dost thou linger here Wasting thy gifts in sordid toil and tame That brings thee neither love, nor gold nor fame? The path to power and pleasure lieth clearLeavo this low work to moaner hands and aim For loftier duties and a nobler sphere." He took my hand, and where ho bade I went, Till youth and strength and happiness were fied; And Only when my years were nearly spent In restless longings, and when hope was dead I saw the wan, sad face of him who led, And knew at last his true name, "Discontent." - Susan M. Spaldiug. Love niucli. Loye much. Earth has enough of bitter in it; Cast sweets into its cuy whene'er you can. No heart so hard but Love at last tnay win it. ! Love is the grand primnval cause of man. All hate is foreign to the lirst great plan. uuvo rauou. ïour heart will bo led out to slanghter On altar.s built of envy and deceit. Love on, Ipve onl 'tis bread upon tho waterIt shall be cast in loaves yet at your feet, ünleavened inanna, most divinely sweet. Love mncU. Your faith will be dethroned and shaken, Yourtrust betrayed bymanyafair falselure Rcraount your faith, and let new trusts awakenThough clouda obscure them, yct the stars are pure; Lovo is a vital torce and must endure. Love much. Men'a souls contract with cold suspicion. Shine on them with warm love, and they expand. Tis love, not creods, that from a low condition Leads mankind up to heights supremo and grand. Oh, that the world could seeand understand! Love much. There 13 110 waste in freel y givinir Moro blessed is it even than to receive He who loves tnuch, aloue finds life worth living. Love on, through doubt and darkness and believe There 0 no thing which Love may not achieve. -Ella Wheeler Wilcox. S:iy It. When you've got a thing to say, Say t! Don't tako half a day. When your tale's got little iu it, Croivd the whole thing in a minutel Life is short- a lleeting vapor- Don't try to (11 this plthy paper With a lalt; which, at a pineh, Could be cornered in an inch! Boil hor down unttl she siinmers; Polish her until sho glimmers. When you've got a thing to say, Say UI Dou't tako half a day! -Atlanta Constitution. Triith Forever on the Scaflolil. Carelesa seems the great avenger; history's pages but record One deatb. grapploln the darkncss 'twixt old system.s and the word; Truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the throne- Yet that seiUIold sways the future, and behind thedi, i Btandeth God wlthin (ho shadow, keepiae watch beside His own. ' - Lowell. I n:i i titineü. I: bleat should vu be, luí ve I of(cn conceived, Ha.l ve really a'cTlIeved what we nearly' achieved! Weiut caten at thc skirts oí (lio tliings we i be, And fu 11 back on i he lap oí a false destiny. So it wiil be, :a has been, siuco lilis world bcgan' And the happiost, noblest and best part of man Is the part whick ho ncvcr hath fully played out, For the tirst aud last word in liie"s volume is- Doubt. The face the most fair to our visión allowcd Is tbc race we encounter and lose in the crowel. The i liought tbat most thrills our existeuce is oue Wlilch, before wc eau frame it in languago, is gone. - Owen Meredith. The Society Upon the Stimislaus. Ii-esideat Tablo Mountain, and my nauw is Trnthfu) James. I am not up to sinall decelt or any sinful gara s; And 111 teil in simple language wbat I know about t!ic ruw That broke up our Society upon (he Stanislow. Bat first I would reiuark that it is uot a proper plan For any ecientlflo gentleman to wliala nis fellow l:ian; And if a niumber don't agreo witli his peculiar wuiui, To lay for Ihat Ramo mernbcr for to "put a head" on kim. For uotlüng could be finer or more baautiiul tosco fiiivu the (rat six moaths' proceedings of that Pame bucioty, ViJl Iïrmvn, of Calaveras, lrought a lot of fossil bones l'bat he foiind thin a tunnel near the tonemeut of Jones. rheu Brown ho read a paper, and ho reconBtrnctod there From these saine bonea an animal that was extremely rare; And Jones then asked the chiur f or a suspension of the rules Till he could prove tbat these same bones were one of his lost inules. Then Brown he smiled a bitter smilo and said he was at fault, It seemed he had boen trespassing on Jones' family vault: . He was a most sarcastio man, this quiet Mr. Brown, And on several occasions ho had cleaned out the town. N'ow I hold it is not decent for a scientiflc gent To say another is au ass-at least to all intent; Nor should the individual who happens to bo tneant Reply by heaving rocks at him to any great extent. Then Abner Dean, of Angel's, raiaed a point of order- when A chunk of old red sandstono took him in the abdomen. Ana ne smiieü a kind of Bickly emile, and ourled up on the floor, And tho subsequent proccedings intereutod him no more. For in leas time than I write it, every member did engage ín warfare with the reinnanta of a paleozoio age; And the way they heaved tho3ü fossils in thuir anger was a sin, Till the skull of an o!3 mammoth caved the heatl of Thompson in. And this is all I have to say of these impropor games, For I live at Tablo Mountaiu and iny name ia Truthful James; And I've told in simple language what I know about the row That broke up our Society upon the Stanislow! - Bret Harte. Always Aliñe. You say tho joy that has just como tome Tocrown my lile with glory aod wldi grace, VVill perish, leaving bat the agouy Of loss in its dear piace. And that 'twere butler to forego the bliss, And so be spared tho loss. I teil you nay; Because the niifht is coming, must I miss The brightness of the day? But yesterday the floners and birds wero here; Today I watc-h thewhirling.di-iftingSDOws; Nor ara I sadduued thiukiug of tho dear Departed bird aud rose. Giveme thegorgeousskies, the s-eet perfumo ut nowers, aye, aü the royal suminer's charms, Though I must see her, robbed oí all her bloom. Die in the winter's arras. I would not tako your little negative Delights; I have no petty fear of dnath; Life is not worth the living, if to livfc Means just to draw the breath. No doubt iny feet Bhall tread the valley'a waya, My eyes shall dweil ou lesser, lower sights: But, ah! they cannot rob me- those droar days- Of this day on the heights. - Carlotta Perry. The Life of Hood. John Hood one night said to his wifo, "I b'lieve 111 try 'n' write ui my life; ' 'Twould be quite interestin, too, Some nv them times thet I be'n through." "Write up yev life," the good wife said, "Why laws-a-me, you've lost your head;" But he sat down with pen and ink And scratched and hemmed and tried to think. John Hootl ivas born Oetober eight. In what is called the Nutmeg State; In eighteen hundred twenty-nine, An pooty nigh ther York state line. "So far so good; I say, my dear, Don't say yeou think I ain't all here. I've started well, but- arter all Not one event kin I recall." Thus on he rocked and aeratehed hia head, But all thoso "times" of his bad fled. "Thet pesky show I belped ter town Ain't hardly wuth a-jottin down. "Tben I feil off thet load uv hay, But sich things happen ev'ry day. Then thar's ther time thet I could vote, But thet warn't much, "so then he wrote: "Joba Hood was wed ter Mary Lee March slxteen, in forty-three." And this was all the good man could Think to write in his "Ufe oí Hood." "It's jest ther way," the fariaer said, "Yeou're born, married, an then yeou'ro dead; Thet makes ther life uv common men, But doesn't sliewwhat might hev been." - Joe Cone. Woman. Woman may err, woman may give her mind To evil thoughts, and lose her pure estáte; But for oue woman who affrouts her kind By wicked passions and remorseless bate, A thousand make amends in age and youth, By heavenly pity, by sweet sympathy, By patiënt kindness, by enduring truth, By love, suprcmest in adversity. -Charles Mackay. Stepping Stones. 1 ho!d it Truth, with him vvho sings To one clear harp with divers tones, That men may riso on stepng stoues Oí their dead selvcs to highcr things. - Tennysou. What Itiches Give. JVhat richas give us, let us ürst iuquireJIcat, firo iiud clnthcs. Vhat more? Meat, elotlies and üre.