Alas, alas! the nearing time, When 'neath the daisies, cold and white, But O beyond these shadowy lands, I know full well these dear old hands Will palms of victory bear; Flow over golden sands, years And where the old grow young again, UNDER MILTON'S PICTURE. J. DRYDEN. Three Poets, in three distant ages born, WOMAN'S VOICE. EDWIN ARNOLD. OT in the swaying of the summer trees, Nor ripples breaking on the river's brim, Is earth's best music; these may leave awhile High thoughts in happy hearts, and carking cares beguile. But even as the swallow's silken wings, An excellent thing it is! and ever lent To truth, and love, and meekness; they who own This gift by the all gracious Giver sent, Ever by quiet step and smile are known: By kind eyes that have wept, hearts that have sorrow'dBy patience never tired, from their own trials borrow'd. An excellent thing it is--when first in gladness A mother looks into her infant's eyes- Pales at its paleness, sorrows at its cries; Its food and sleep, and smiles and little joys- An excellent thing it is when life is leaving Leaving with gloom and gladness, joys and caresThe strong heart failing, and the high soul grieving With strongest thoughts, and wild, unwonted fears; Then, then, a woman's low, soft sympathy Comes like an angel's voice to teach us how to die. But a most excellent thing it is in youth, When the fond lover hears the loved one's tone. That fears, but longs, to syllable the truth How their two hearts are one, and she his own; It makes sweet human music-oh! the spells That haunt the trembling tale a bright-eyed maiden tells. WE SHALL KNOW. ANNIE HERBERT. HEN the mists have rolled in splendor We may read love's shining letter When the mists have cleared away. If we err, in human blindness, And the mists have cleared away. When the mists have risen above us, |