Gems In Verse

One dusk, long summera gone, the white cheeked moou Beheld this valley reel with war. But now Where yon still hamlet 's Windows redlyglow At eve the housewives gossip or elsu croon .Soft lullabies. ThrouKh the long afteruoon The children tambo) in the vale balow; lie luxtrous lilies at their moorings blow; mowero move with reytbea u tnerry tune; ('iiinie fniutly far from out the white church Bplre Thos" evening bells; slow move the creaking waini Down purple glcns abkize with eunset fire. And low necked kine trudge home through thick leafed lacea. Sweet vale, the only sword now there that's 8een Is the muon's ecimiter in skies serene. -James S. Sullivan. Forever. Two little streamlets leaped and flowed And sang their songs together; They feit alike the summer rays And bore the stormy weather; The self sanie blossoms decked them both In colors rich and rare. And in eaeh stream the song birds wooed Tbeir bright reflections there. -t'_iid on and on and on they dauced, Eacli leaping toward the river, And Uien tboy met to kiss aud part Forcvcr and fortver. Two human lives, two kindred hearts, By dcstiny's decree, JJct in the spring of life to learn lts deepest mystery. They dreained their morning dreams of hope Through fair, unclonded weather; They opened love's bcwitching book And read it throagli together; They saw in one another's eyes A deep, unspoken bli-s, And from each other's lips they took Love's ever ready kiss. And then the fate that crnshes all The sweetest pleasures here Turned hope's glad music to a sigh, lts glory to a tear. It stepped between them. Ah, it mocked The love it could not kill! It liade them in its fury live And love and suffer still. They tried with outstretehed hands to span Fate's wide, unyielding "Never." The voice of destiny replied, "Forever and forever!" " - Chambers' Journal. All Saints. Men may not mark them in the crowded ways. The noisy world forgets to blame or praise The poor in sjúrit, vut they pass along Through bilent paths and make them glad with song; Theirs is the klndgdom where Love reigns supreme And Faith soars higher than the poet's dream. Wrapped in the sunligntof eternal day, Bleased are they. God knows the patiënt souls who do hls will; The mourners who eau suffer and bc still, VVaiting in silence for bis healing balm; The meek, whose hands shall clasp the victor's Dalm: The hungry ones, whom he alone can feed; The merciful; the pure In heart and deed; The peacemakers- of these I hear him aay, Blesaed are they. Father, we pray thee that thy light raay shine Upon the world through every child of thinel Into the haunts of darkness and distress They come with all the power of blessedness. When thou hast called them to thy purer sphere The fragrance of their lives shall llnger here. And through death's silence we shall hear thee say, Blessed are they. -Sarah Doudney. Finished. Aek me not why I strive and strive in vain To wake again the thrills of dead romance: To feel once inore the pleasure or the pain; To wake my heart from out its deathlike trance. I only know my love lies cold and still; No more it stirs at smile or tender tone. I loved you once, but coldness love can kill- Then blame me not that now you walk alone. You swore you loved me in the days now dead. And on that oath I gave you all you claimed. Then for love you gave negkjct instead; So all my heart shrank back to me.ashamed That for a stone its jewel had been given. Then what seemed love to passing f ancy feil. And when I thought you opo'd the gates of heaven You only paved the downward path to heil. Now go yuur va ■. Ilenceforth I ceaso to be Tbe loving woman whoni you did not love. Tlie futnre'a gnlf lies broad 'twixt you and me. You pass froiu out my life. Have mercy, Godabove! - Jessio Lee Randolpn. A II. ri. Hf is a bero v.bo when sorely tried Hath yet a flrui control O'er ilI 1 bis passions as tbey strongly rise To battle witb bis soul. Tbe silent battle wbicb tbe spirit fights, Warrlng uuMinst deslrea Unholy and impure, ii rigbt sball win To bigber good inspires. The soul tbat crucifies an evil tbougbt, Tbat keeps a guarded gate Of Cbristiau love and brotberly good will Between bis soul and bate, Shall stand, in all bis uianliuess and worth. As niigbtier tban be Wbo takts a city in bis strengtb aud pride ür boastetb vauntingly. Tbe shield of purity wben nobly worn, Wbere faith bas been confessed. Is stronger tbau tbe cunniug coat of mail Upon a warrioi's brea-t. He is a bero who to trutb is true, Thouub lowly and obscure. Long after oarthly bouors fade away Hls triumpbs sball endure. - Annie Wall. The Man Who Alvrajg Sniiles. His bouse may not a mansión be; his place inside tbe line Where oommon people stand and note tbeir ricber neighbor's sbiue; But yet bis life 's a grauder oue, tbough lacking mucb of style. Ilis title is tbe Priuce of Hope- tbe man wbo always smile.s. Though he never linined a landscape he's an artist in nis way; He's a picture fair of joyousness in a frame that's ahvays uay; His lifi-'s a useful sermón, and he's preaching all the while, And he's better off than goveruors- the uian who ahvays soxilcs. He's une of life's physicians without antidotes orpills; His cures are freely given to all men's current lis; He's a missionary worker, leaving out the beatlieu U And be'a aimiiiK straight for heaven- the man who always suiiles. Fred E. Smith. Retribiition. Ah, who can teil the joy I feel To Me liiin pass, the jest of all the crowd That throng the asplialt pavel His brow is dark with ttloom, For vain is his attempt lo luok unconcerned Despite his feeble, slcUy h'iins. Th is man who, wheu an office interview we orare, ieeps na tour hours his pleasnre waiting in an anteroom- Jlik'hty lsh ai morn; at eveanorsegirl turued, Wheelinga baby car riage and red faced squallint; tw iae. - A Bepoi ter. Gray wben tliey are young- Quakoresses.