Gems In Verse

Musical. Thfa programme, abe informed me, waa a charming one indeed, Froin the spleudid Wagner overture (which nothing couiu exceed) fo the lovely little scherzo and the minnet for strings. And the latest bit of Dvorak, which made her Bigh for wings. Throughout the Grieg concerto her emotion was intense, It seemed to me at times she held her breath iu deep suspense; She raved of opas this and that, of Schubert, Bach and Liszt, Beethoven, Brahms, Tschaikowski and a score whose ñames I missed. But when at last 'twas over and I led her down the stair, I noticed that beneath her breath she hummed a little air; It was not upon the programme, beinp: commonplace and tuney, And I wondered at the sudden drop from Bach to Annie Kooney." - Jndge. Nameless. Judge, I picad guilty; he speaks the truth; I am what I am, and what you seeT So old in a damned, unhallow'd jJTOth That your wrinkled years seem young to me. Don't preach- don't lecture; I know it all; The easy canting, the fluent words, The solemn drivel texts from Paul, And a mangled phrase or two of the Lord's. Moreover, you err if you suppose That even a harlot, soaked in sin, Slides down the darkness without some throes Oí the marred purities within. Oh, sir, you wrong even our disgrace To think that we never wail and cry Out from the foulness, with lif ted face, To an awful Something up in the sky. Do you think I never dream of home? Of a weary rnan with whitening hair; Of a missing voiee in a vacant room, And the sobs a-choke in a woinan's prayer? That nothing has ever prompted flight, Swift as my hungry feet could fly, Fatherward, motherward- that I might Fa!l on their necks, break heart and die? My God! my God! when the masked brows must Bo clothed to a false, forged radiance, wliile The bloom of the soul is baked to dust- And straight through your fabrieated smile Dread ghosts of murdered innocence fling Perpetual javelins from their eyes. And babe's birdlike chirruping Seares like thunder out of the skies- When the sweet sanctities set to gnard The inner whiteness from outer Btaln, Tricked of their holy watch and ward, Moan and madden in heart and brain; And a howling fury hunts and hounds Wherever a clean thought hidea away. And a dreadful voice of dooming sounds Through the haunted chambers night and day; And a soniethinf? mocks you when you laugh. And a something jeers you when you weep; And hellfire lurks in the wine you Quaff, And a fiend grins at you ín your eleep: And a coiliug horror sucks you down Through a black and bottomless abyss- Judge, do you t hink your legal f rown Can augur puniBhment worse than this? Bahl what an infinite fooi am I To talk like this to a man like youl Some day the toughest of us must dieAnd we shall be sifted through and througb. Sifted and sorted. Judge, have you thought That possibly to the Sorter, then, Something that now iê may be naught- When the coward's shrieks steain up from men? The Village Polltician. Sittin on a cracker box, a barrel or a keg, Chawin on terbacker he has been obleeged to beg; Whittlin of a splinter while a-workin of hia jaw, Sayin what a pity his opinions ain't the law; Runnin the huil country as 'twas never run before, TurninK out the rascáis while he spits upon the floor; Showin of the president egszactly what to do, Keepin things in general from gittin in a stew; Grumblin over Wall street, monopoly and work - Wife at home a-hoein in the cornfield like a Turk. Givin lazy congressmen a needed rakln over, Settin there in Washington like well fed pigs in clover; Givin Gould and Vanderbilt a pointer here and there, Showiu jest how surely one can be a milliui.aire; Payin off the nation'8 debt as easy as a wiuk, Borrowin a diine to get himself another drink, Spankin little Chili jest to show her how it feels, Sassin back Great Britain for pesterin onr seals, TeUin of the czar to let them nihilists alone, Helpin Kaiser William to prop up his shaky throne, Buildin a great navy with an hour or two of euff, Lettin the huil world know that. we're rabid, I rude and rouKh ; Gettin off his high horse, tbough, when horae he goes to dinner, Dodtrin creditors like au ordinary 6inner; Jumps to hear his firstborn yell: "You'd bet-j tor watch out, dadl I Flour 'nd coffee's plum give out, 'nd mother'J migbty mad." -Yankee Blade. I In hope the plowman sows hls Beed; Thus hope helps thousanda at their need. Theu falnt not, heart. among the rest; Whatever chance, hope thou the best. -Richard Alison. The Meiidicitiit. Sakya-Muni, Gautama Buddha, what dos thou proffer of hope or of mirth? "What shall I do to be Baved" from the sorrow, passion, terror and tuadness of earth? What is thy gospel, O prophet of India? What has thou left to me, child of the sun? What is the balm for pain thou has promised me? What is the crown when the race hath been run? "What shall I do to be saved?"- Thou hast answered it. "Labor not ever, but beg for thy bread; Live as a mendicant: marry not; mortify flesh; let a life of Nirvana ba led. So shalt thou flnd in the death of thy passions, growth of thy spirit, composure and rest. Passing through indolent days of hurnanity on to intangible joys of the biest." Sakya-Muni, Gautama Buddha. bending 1 heed thee, but flnd in thy law Something that baffles me, doubtful consistency- lo, in the weft of thy wisdom a flaw- Look to it, Gautama! Sakya-Muni, sweet Í3 the bulbul, but hollow her egg. Uow shall thy crospel sufflee for the many? If all men are beggars, from wbom shall men beg? -George F. S. Armstrong. Loss aiul Gain. When I compare VVhat I havo lost withwhal I bave gained, What I have mtesed with wbat attained, Little room do I find for prlde. i aio rtware How mauy days have been itlly speut; How like an arrow the goud intent Has fallen short or beea turued aside. But who shall dare To measure loss and galn in tbis wiseV Defeat may be victory in disguise; The lowest ebb is the turn oí the tide. -Longfellow. Love. Love's best ianuae is unpoken. Vet how Bimply known: Kloquent in every tokeu, Look and touch and ; . e. l). V. McCarthy. All take interest- Govornment boawls. I