REV. J. K. MASON, D. D. BORN: BETHEL, ME., SEPT. 20, 1817. THIS gentleman received his education in Bowdoin College and Bangor Theological Seminary, and was ordained a Congregational minister in 1849. He was married the same year to Miss Susanna R. Twitchell, by whom he has several children now grown to REV. JAVAN K. MASON, D. D. maturity. The Rev. J. K. Mason has filled pastorates at Hamden Congregational church for sixteen years; Thomaston for thirteen years; nine years at Fryeburg, and is now pastor of the Congregational church at Herndon, Va. This minister has also been chaplain of the Maine State prison; overseer of Bowdoin College for twenty-five years, and also one of the class examiners, besides serving on other important committees. In 1872 Mr. Mason was the Maine commissioner in the International Penitentiary Congress held in London, after the adjournment of which he made the tour of Europe. He has also been honored with other positions of trust. AN IMPROMPTU. .. What is Life?" Yet upon it hangs a Future, Then improve it; RECEPTION SONG. I come to thee to-day, O, let me ever say, Thine wholly thine! I take thy cross-to bear; And would thine image wear Thro' life's dark way. Let me behold thy face, And live in thine embrace; Nor fail of thy rich grace. My heart to thee I give, Do thou my soul inspire, To lift thy banner higher, This day I thee confess, O lead me on I pray; In thine own blood. How glorious is the throne, Whereon.. Thou art sat down:" O welcome me- -thine own! Jesus my Lord. FOR A LADY'S ALBUM. I'm a book! and I've pages fair, Having lids that are tinted with colors rare; I am white, nor black, nor red, nor green, And shall afford no sanctum for anyone's spleen, Nor a line for a flatterer's pen. I'm a gift! and I've language true, From a heart transparent as crystal dew. I am yellow, nor brown, nor gray, I ween, And contain no corner for anything mean; Nor a page for what is vain. That thrills through my bosom and all my heart stirs; And the rapturous longing Says to whom 'tis belonging, [hers. And I know the sweet voice and its music are And I am her vassal Who lives in this castle, And she, my dear sovereign, whose rule can I have sought her long and well. At last I have found her, Tall grasses around her, Adown in the fragrant dell. She had gone astray, and had lost her way I tenderly led her, through valley and meadow, (To lead and not drive seemed but right.) 'Twas the sweet, white clover That tempted her over, And who of us always does right? The damp dew is falling, dear voices are calling: I too, have strayed off from the right;- Has tempted her over, I'm in the far pasture to-night. But oh! will He blame me, or seek to reclaim MOLLIE MARTIN. BORN: KNAWHA CO., W. VA., JAN. 17, 1844. THIS lady has written poems on various subjects-sacred hymns, songs of home, temperance and patriotic songs, which have ap MOLLIE MARTIN. peared in Peterson's Magazine and the periodical press. She has also taught school. ODE TO CHARITY, OR CHRISTIAN LOVE. Thy peaceful reign begin, Then chords of sympathy will wake, I'll freely give for thy sweet sake, I'll aid the suffering, help the weak, MY LITTLE PLAYMATE. Who made my childhood blest Sweet little brown-eyed Effie, Her heart with love did glow, Oh, friend so true and faithful, MY MOTHER. My beloved Christian Mother, Now my pathway will be lonely, GARDINERS. PLUMLEY, D.D. She fears not to eat from my hand BORN: WASHINGTON, D. C., AUG. 11, 1827. THIS gentleman is a clergyman, well-known in the religious world. He has composed many poems and also composed music for many of his hymns. Besides being pastor at GARDINER SPRING PLUMLEY, D. D. Greenfield Hill, Conn., Dr. Plumley writes constantly for the press, and is editor of the Learner and Teacher, an educational magazine published in New York City. The poems and hymns of G. S. Plumley, D. D., F. S. S., have received extensive publication in the religious and secular press of America. Mr. Plumley was married in 1850 to Miss Emily Augusta Fisher, daughter of the celebrated artist Alvin Fisher. DOLLY. LADDIE'S LETTER. Dear Aunt Emma:- Papa and Mama Such a beautiful lamb you ne'er saw, Oats, lettuce, grass, clover and hay, She plays tag" with us down by the creek, Is that as we play hide and seek" But this morning we've all been so sad, And crying to think we must part; I never knew lambs could be bad, And I'm sure it will quite break my heart. For Dolly begins to grow wild, And to knock down poor Rollo and me; So Papa says we'll have to agree To send her away to be sold, And to-morrow the farmer will come To take her away to his fold; With his sheep must be Dolly's new home. AUNT EMMA'S REPLY. Dear Laddie:- I'm sorry to hear That Dolly is going away, For from what your note tells me, I fear You will all miss her much in your play. Besides, when one leaves a nice place Is surely a pitiful sight. But how would you like it, my child, [name, I am sure you are far more to blame Were you thus sent away, you would roam And the reason you're not punished so You ought then to love them each day HORACE MCINTYRE. QUITE a few poems have appeared from the pen of the subject of this sketch. Mr. Mc HORACE M'INTYRE. Intyre is a resident of Ainsworth, Neb.. where he is engaged in publishing. THE JOY OF KNOWING. Dark and gloomy were the days, for sad were his surroundings, When an angel in her ways, touched his heart to quick reboundings, He could not tell from whence she came, for silent was her coming, But he softly breathed her name in his heart song's soulful humming. Eagerly he sighed in wonder at the mystic message pouring, Soft as zephyrs - deep as thunder - from a distant storm cloud roaring. Then again to silence lapsing. In his heart a prayer upheaving, Bore his soul away enraptured-mortal for immortal leaving. Back again, to earth returning, all, he pondered, is not venal Adding fuel to the burning yearning in his station regal, For, while power to him was granted, all his mandates would be vain, Save his life be all recanted and at Jesus' feet be lain. Tenderly another message by his angel Love is given, Bearing unto him a pressage of that happiness in heaven. That'twas given with assurance of a heart as pure as rare, Pressed his life beyond endurance, unto bliss beyond compare. "Hold," he cried, your beauty smites me with a force I can't withstand; " 44 Hold," my conscience almost blights me: by your kindness I'm unmanned. Why should you to me, a stranger, such rare sympathy reveal?" "Why should you entail such danger as with wayward souls conceal?" But through tears and smiles she beckoned ..Come up higher, you're not lost!" .. Time to you my friend is reckoned; but a dark vale must be crossed." Then with innocent expression she explained how it was done, And with frankness and confession viewed her battles lost and won. 44 ..for Moral strength I've sadly needed-Jesus is my All, my True ..To his guidance I command you, turn to him yet while you may, And my fervent prayers I lend you-will you not?-I pray you, pray." Silence reigned supreme, but in his heart he felt that all was well; On his brow the warmest beam of angel sunshine rose and fel'; Tenderly it firmly drew him toward the Realm of endless day; And the very hand that slew him tunes his harp and lights his way. |