AR

GRIEF.

S the funeral train with its honored dead On its mournful way went sweeping, While a sorrowful nation bowed its head

And the whole world joined in weeping, I thought, as I looked on the solemn sight, Of the one fond heart despairing,

And I said to myself, as in truth I might,
"How sad must be this sharing."

To share the living with even Fame,
For a heart that is only human,

Is hard, when Glory asserts her claim
Like a bold, insistent woman;

Yet a great, grand passion can put aside.

Or stay each selfish emotion,

And watch, with a pleasure that springs from pride,
Its rival-the world's devotion.

But Death should render to love its own,
And my heart bowed down and sorrowed
For the stricken woman who wept alone
While even her dead was borrowed;
Borrowed from her, the bride-the wife-
For the world's last martial honor,

As she sat in the gloom of her darkened life,
With her widow's grief fresh upon her.

He had shed the glory of Love and Fame

In a golden halo about her;

She had shared his triumphs and worn his name:
But, alas! he had died without her.
He had wandered in many a distant realm,
And never had left her behind him;

But now, with a spectral shape at the helm,
He had sailed where she could not find him.

It was only a thought, that came that day
In the midst of the muffled drumming
And funeral music and sad display,

That I knew was right and becoming;
Only a thought as the mourning train
Moved, column after column,
Bearing the dead to the burial plain

With a reverence grand as solemn.

TA

SPEECH.

ALK happiness. The world is sad enough
Without your woe. No path is wholly rough.
Look for the places that are smooth and clear,
And speak of them to rest the weary ear
Of earth; so hurt by one continuous strain
Of mortal discontent and grief and pain.

Talk faith. The world is better off without
Your uttered ignorance and morbid doubt.
If you have faith in God, or man, or self,
Say so; if not, push back upon the shelf

Of silence, all your thoughts till faith shall come.
No one will grieve because your lips are dumb.

Talk health.

The dreary, never-ending tale
Of mortal maladies is worn and stale;
You cannot charm or interest or please
By harping on that minor chord, disease.
Say you are well, or all is well with you,

And God shall hear your words and make them true.

ILLUSION.

OD and I in space alone

And nobody else in view.

"And where are the people, O! Lord," I said,
"The earth below, and the sky o'er head
And the dead whom once I knew?''

"That was a dream," God smiled and said,
"A dream that seemed to be true.
There were no people, living or dead,
There was no earth, and no sky o'er head
There was only myself-in you."'

"Why do I feel no fear," I asked,
"Meeting you here this way,
For I have sinned I know full well,

And is there heaven, and is there hell,

And is this the judgment day?"

"Nay, those were but dreams," the Great God said, "Dreams, that have ceased to be.

There are no such things as fear or sin,
There is no you-you never have been-
There is nothing at all but Me."

2

ASSERTION.

AM serenity. Though passions beat
Like mighty billows on my helpless heart,
I know beyond them, lies the perfect sweet
Serenity, which patience can impart.
And when wild tempests in my bosom rage,
"Peace, peace," I cry, "it is my heritage."

I am good health. Though fevers rack my brain
And rude disorders mutilate my strength,

A perfect restoration after pain,

I know shall be my recompense at length, And so through grievous day and sleepless night "Health, health," I cry, "it is my own by right.'

I am success. Though hungry, cold, ill-clad,
I wander for awhile, I smile and say,
"It is but for a time-I shall be glad

To-morrow, for good fortune comes my way.
God is my father, He has wealth untold,

His wealth is mine, health, happiness and gold.”