Gems In Verse

"Darling," he saíd, "I never meant To liurt you,'" and his eyes were wet. "I wonld not liurt you for the world. Am I to blame i f I forget?" "Forgive my eelfish tears!" she cried, "Forgive! I knew tbat it was not BecauBe you ineant to taurt me, Sweet- I knew it was that you forflrotl" But al) the same, deep in her heart Rankled this thought and rankles yet- "When love is at its best, one loves So much that he cannot forget." -Helen Hunt. He Had Hetter Propose at Once. I know, my friend. We never have been lovers, but when we Of these sweet summer hours shall find the end. And there shall be A courteous elose to all our picasant speech; When yon go out into the hurrying crowd, To battle with a warrior iron browed. For all the worldly blessings which you claim, Weakli, power and fame, Tilines which I do not crave and cannot reach; I wonder if your heart will be the same, Will beat as even and as tranfuilly A way f rom me? If, when you find your separate lifeonce more, 'Twill be as whole and happy as before? It may be so. Ambition bas broad leaves, which overfjrow The feebier heart plante, blooming small and low. And yet, I think, When time or change, or both, have snapped the link Which holds us ne'er bo lightly heart to heart, When you have found out new and pleasant ways From these apart, Have loved fair women and have known great men, Perhaps grown great yourself, and tasted praise, Despite the rosy ties which bind you then, You will look back to these tame, quiet daya With dim, strange pain; And haply in your dreaming think of me Half mournfully, Saying, while all surrounding witcheries Seem dull and vain. And beauty's smile, and flattery's ministries Lose, for the time, their hold on heart and brain, "Ah, me! how little she was like to these! Would I could look upon that face again!" - Boston Transcript. The Question. HE. I asked her today, But she gave me no answer, Neither word would she say, Though I asked her today In the most approved way Of the modern romancer. I asked her today, But she gave me no answer. 6HE. Ee has spoken at last- Shall I take him or leave him? At my f eet he is cast; He has spoken at last. If his kopes I Bhould blast, Would it really grieve him? He has spoken at last- Shall I take him or leave him? HER MAMMA. Is he rich, as they say, Or a penniless masker? 1 must find out today If he's rich, as they say. For she's not said him nay. And again he may ask her. Is he rich, as they say, Or a penniless masker? -Yankee Blade. If I Should Die Tonight. If I should die tonight, My friends would look upon my quiet face Before they laid t in ite resting place And deem that death had left it almost fair; And laying snow white flowers against my hair, Would smooth it down with tearf nl tenderness. And fold my hands with lingering caress; Poor hands, so empty and so cold tonightl If I should die tonight, My friends would cali to mind, with loying thought, Some kindly deed the icy hands had wrought; Some gentle word tlie frozen lips had said; Errands on which the willing feet had sped; Tlie memory of my selfishness and pride, My hasty words would all be put aside. And so 1 should be loved and mourned toniffht. If I should die tonight, Even hearts estranged would turn once more to me, Recalling other days remorsefully. The eyes that chili me with averted glance Would look upon me as of yore perchanee. And soften in the oíd familiar way. For who could war with duuib, uneonscious clay? So I might rest, forgiven of all tonight. Oh, friends, I pray tonight. Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow; The way is lonely, let me feel them now. Think gently of me, I am travel worn; My faltering feet are pinched with many a thorn. Forgive, oh, hearts estranged, íorgive, I pleadl When dreamless rest is mine I shall not need The tenderness for which I long tonight. -Belle E. Smith. Motlierg. [A dialogue at Boston, ü. S. A.l "See there," he said, "my fair Americanl Yon noisy child I'd like to i hoke, being but 'brutal man.' That Mother mild "Takes al] ts howls for music, comforts it With song and kiss. And Kives it at the loudeat of ts flt Her müky blisn. "And t here again, yon little liunbkin bleatingMiide for iiiint sauceAt its first cry the fïie quita clover eating And runs, períorre. "And yet again tbat purple winged hen starling. Hungry- J'll voucb it!- Flies with a fat grub to her nested darling. Nor dreams to pouch it! "She-mercy everywhere, 6he-pitying ín helpless season! You Boston girls seem up to everything: Tell me the reason?" "Why, certainly," she smiled; "don't poeta know Better t han other9? God can't be always everywhere, and so Inveuted Mothers." -Sir Edwin Arnold. !.il)erty. One fairer thintí he showed hlm, and in might More strong than day and night, Whose strengths build np tirae'a toweringperiod- Yea, one thing stronger and more high than God, Which, if man had not, then should God not be. And that was Liberty. And gladly Bhould man die to gain, he said, Freedom, and gladlier, having lost, lie dead, For man 's earth was not, nor the sweet sea wavea His, nor bis own land, nor its very graves, Except they bred not, bore not, hid not slaves. - Swinburne. Turn to the Cliildren. Turn to the ehildren, sistersl and in theru lose your pain; In ehildren 's hopes and hearts and lives we find lost faith again. - Mav Austin. An article that brim'gs tears to the e j-Os - 'Aro m om ia .