Shall look upon as he did the first,
And say, "It is very good."

I am fair and young, but the rose will fade
From my soft, young cheek one day;
Will you love then, mid the falling leaves,
As you did mid the bloom of May?

Is your

I

heart an ocean so strong and deep
may launch my all on its tide?

A loving woman finds heaven or hell
On the day she is made a bride.

I require all things that are grand and true,
All things that a man should be;

If you give this all, I would stake my life
To be all you demand of me.

If

you can not do this-a laundress and cook You can hire with little to pay;

But a woman's heart and a woman's life

Are not to be won that way.

MEN

G

God, Give Us Men!

OD, give us men! A time like this demands

Strong minds, great hearts, true faith and ready hands;

Men whom the lust of office does not kill;
Men whom the spoils of office can not buy;
Men who possess opinions and a will;

Men who have honor; men who will not lie;
Men who can stand before a demagogue

And damn his treacherous flatteries without winking! Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the fog

In public duty, and in private thinking;

For while the rabble, with their thumb-worn creeds,
Their large professions and their little deeds,
Mingle in selfish strife, lo! Freedom weeps,
Wrong rules the land and waiting Justice sleeps.

-Josiah Gilbert Holland

T

The Manly Man

HE world has room for the manly man, with the spirit of manly cheer;

The world delights in the man who smiles when his eyes. keep back the tear;

It loves the man who, when things are wrong, can take

his place and stand

With his face to the fight and his eyes to the light, and toil with a willing hand;

The manly man is the country's need, the moment's need, forsooth,

With a heart that beats to the pulsing troop of the lilied leagues of truth;

The world is his and it waits for him, and it leaps to hear the ring

Of the blow he strikes and the wheels he turns and hammers he dares to swing;

It likes the forward look on his face, the poise of his noble head,

And the onward lunge of his tireless will and the sweep of his dauntless tread!

Hurrah for the manly man who comes with sunlight on his face,

And the strength to do and the will to dare and the courage to find his place!

The world delights in the manly man, and the weak and evil flee

When the manly man goes forth to hold his own on land or sea!

MERCY

-Anon.

Mercy

HE quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest,-
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes

The throned monarch better than his crown:

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,-
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,

It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice.

MONEY

-William Shakespeare

Gold

G

OLD! Gold! Gold! Gold!

Bright and yellow, hard and cold,
Molten, graven, hammered, and rolled;
Heavy to get, and light to hold;
Hoarded, bartered, bought and sold,

Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled;

Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old
To the very verge of the churchyard mould;
Price of many a crime untold;

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!

Good or bad, a thousand-fold!

How widely its agencies vary!

To save, to ruin, to curse, to bless,
As even its minted coins express!

Now stamped with the image of Good Queen Bess,
And now of a Bloody Mary!

-Thomas Hood

MOTHERS

The Bravest Battle

HE bravest battle that ever was fought,

THE

Shall I tell you where and when?

On the maps of the world you will find it not;

'Twas fought by the mothers of men.

Nay, not with cannon, or battle-shot,
With sword, or nobler pen;

Nay, not with eloquent word or thought,
From mouths of wonderful men.

But deep in a welled-up woman's heart-
Of woman that would not yield,
But bravely, silently bore her part—
Lo! there is that battlefield!

No marshaling troop, no bivouac song;
No banners to gleam and wave!
But oh, these battles they last so long-
From babyhood to the grave!

Yet faithful still as a bridge of stars,
She fights in her walled-up town-
Fights on, and on, in the endless wars,
Then silent, unseen, goes down!

O ye with banners and battle-shot,
And soldier to shout and praise,