unnatural is repulsive. We cannot go behind nature and say why this is so; we can only feel and acknowledge that it is. Each sex has its peculiar station and duties in the world, else the creation of more than one were superfluous. Each has plenty of work adapted to its mode of thought, its peculiar feelings, power, and physical organization. Let the only strife, therefore, between the two, be as to which shall perform its part most faithfully "in the great Taskmaster's eye." "THEY sin who tell us love can die; They perish where they have their birth. Its holy flame forever burneth; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth. Too oft on earth a troubled guest, At times deceived, at times oppressed. It here is tried and purified, TO MY MOTHER. OFT I've thought of thee, my mother, Backward to the Past I wandered, - By the hand he held me fast; Straight he pointed to the bedside, And my little rhyming prayer. Out he led me by the brooklet, And among the garden flowers, Blessed me with the richest odors Caught from blossoms after showers; Filled my hand with ripened fruitage, And then bade me homeward go, Bearing all to my dear mother In the homestead by the knowe. 'Then the good old Past would leave me Comes thine influence, blessed mother, But thy step is getting weary, And thine eye is growing dim; Time upon thy brow is writing Thou hast almost done with him. Yet, dear mother, when thou diest, Gentle hands shall lay thee low, Kneel and bless thee, where thou liest, In the homestead by the knowe. FAREWELL TO MY MOTHER. MOTHER, I leave thy dwelling, Mother, I leave thy dwelling, And the sweet hour of prayer; Mother, I leave thy dwelling; With grief my heart is swelling, From thee from thee-to sever. These arms, that now enfold me From all-from all — I part. TO MISS F. A. L., ON HER BIRTHDAY. WHAT wish can friendship form for thee, Life hath no purer joys in store, Some hearts a boding fear might own, And there are virtues oft concealed, But fear not thou the lesson fraught With sorrow's chastening power to know; Thou need'st not thus be sternly taught "To melt at others' woe." Then still, with heart as blest, as warm, |