GIFT FOR THE HOLIDAYS. Loving eyes that tell their story, Yet when Mary fades above me, T. B. READ. Life. LIFE is but a day at most, Sprung from night, in darkness lost; BURNS. 23 Society of Children. COME the band of children: If he seek others, it is for sake of these, If ye count society for pastime,— What happier recreation than a nursling, If ye count society for good,- To guide these souls to God, And multiply thyself for heaven! M. F. TUPPER. The Gift. YE may search the earth, and the shoreless deep, For the fairest things in their cells they keep; Like a simple gift, with the heart's pure prayer. The Secret of Happiness. WOULDST thou from sorrow find a sweet relief, "Tis when the rose is wrapped in many a fold air. Rouse to some work of high and holy love, CARLOS WILCOX. Beauty's Smile. WHAT heart of man unmoved can lie, HOGG. The Heart's Guests. WHEN age has cast its shadows Guests that in youth we cherished How shall it be, my sisters, Who shall be our hearts' guests? How shall it be, my brothers, When life's shadow on us rests? |