I

WILL not say, "God's ordinance

Of death is blown in every wind,"
For that is not a common chance

That takes away a noble mind.
His memory long will live alone

In all our hearts, as mournful light
That broods above the fallen sun,

And dwells in heaven half the night.

Words weaker than your grief would make
'Twere better I should cease,

Grief more.

Although myself could almost take

The place of him that sleeps in peace.

Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace:
Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul,
While the stars burn, the moons increase,
And the great ages onward roll.

H

TENNYSON.

LIS life was gentle, and the elements were So mixed in him, that nature might Stand up and say to all the world

This is a man.

SHAKSPEARE.

A

ND deeds of week-day holiness

Fell from her noiseless as the snow;
Nor hath she ever chanced to know
That aught were easier than to bless.

J. RUSSELL LOWELL.

THE AGED GRANDMOTHER.

H, softly waves the silver hair

From off that aged brow!
That crown of glory worn so long,

A fitting crown is now.

That life-work, stretching o'er long years, A varied web has been;

With silver strands, by sorrow wrought,
And sunny gleams between.

Each silver hair, each wrinkle there,
Records some good deed done:
Some flower she cast along the way,
Some spark from love's bright sun.

How bright she always made her home: It seemed as if the floor

Was always flecked with spots of sun,

And barred with brightness o'er.

The very falling of her step

Made music as she went;
A loving song was on her lip,
The song of full content.

And now in later years, her word
Has been a blessed thing

In many a home, where glad she saw
Her children's children spring.

Oh, gently fold the weary hands,
That toiled so long and well;
The spirit rose to angel bands,

When off earth's mantel fell.

ANON.

IIIS daily prayer, far better understood.

HIS

In acts than words, was simply doing good;
So calm, so constant was his rectitude,

That by his loss alone we know his worth,
And feel how true a man has walked with us
on earth.

Death of Children.

From out of the mystery cometh to earth

A new child of God through the gateway of birth.
Out into the mystery there beyond breath

Goes a new child of God through the gateway of death.

M. J. S.