NOTHING LIKE THE TRUTH. "Lying lips are abomination to the Lord." There's something wrong to hide below? BABY-LAND. SOMEWHERE Out by Dreamland, In the world of sleep, Lies the land of Infants Veiled in mystery deep. None but babes and angels Live in that bright place, Brightened with the sunshine Of the Father's face. That is why we sometimes Wail, though not in pain; Suns are always shining, Send us thence to you. Tearfully you stand, C. M. DAVIES. "BEHOLD, I STAND AT THE DOOR AND KNOCK !” ALONE in the darkness, 'mid wind and rain, A gentle sound comes again and again— A sound not of earth in its tender tone A voice that would melt a heart of stone! A figure stands at a fast-closed door, With choking weeds and thorns covered o'er; With a sweet sad look on His loving face, "O heavenly Knocker! wherefore hast Thou |