Some souls there are that needs must taste

Of wrong, ere choosing right;

We should not call those years a waste

Which led us to the light.

A

A MARINE ETCHING.

YACHT from its harbor ropes pulled free,

And leaped like a steed o'er the race track blue,

Then up behind her the dust of the sea,

A gray fog, drifted, and hid her from view.

Make glad their days by little acts of beauty

And help them bear the burden of earth's load.

Love thyself last.

Look far and find the stranger,

Who staggers 'neath his sin and his despair; Go lend a hand, and lead him out of danger,

To heights where he may see the world is fair.

Love thyself last. The vastnesses above thee

Are filled with Spirit Forces, strong and pure. And fervently, these faithful friends shall love thee: Keep thou thy watch o'er others and endure.

Love thyself last; and oh, such joy shall thrill thee, As never yet to selfish souls was given.

Whate'er thy lot, a perfect peace will fill thee,

And earth shall seem the ante-room of Heaven.

Love thyself last, and thou shall grow in spirit
To see, to hear, to know, and understand.
The message of the stars, lo, thou shall hear it,

And all God's joys shall be at thy command.

CHRISTMAS FANCIES.

/HEN Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow,

WHEN

We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long

ago,

And etched on vacant places

Are half forgotten faces

Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields cf snow.

Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near, We see, with strange emotion that is not free from fear,

That continent Elysian

Long vanished from our vision,

Youth's lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so dear,

Uprising from the ocean of the present surging

near.

When gloomy gray Decembers are roused to Christmas mirth,

The dullest life remembers there once was joy on

earth,

And draws from youth's recesses

Some memory it possesses,

And, gazing through the lens of time, exaggerates its worth,

When gloomy gray December is roused to Christmas mirth.

When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis Each heart recalls some folly that lit the world with bliss.

Not all the seers and sages

With wisdom of the ages

Can give the mind such pleasure as memories of that kiss

When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis.

For life was made for loving, and love alone repays, As passing years are proving, for all of Time's sad ways.

There lies a sting in pleasure,

And fame gives shallow measure,

And wealth is but a phantom that mocks the restless days,

For life was made for loving, and only loving pays.

When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes,

And silences are melting to soft, melodious rhymes,