Coquetting all day with the sunbeams,
And stealing their golden edge;
Not for the vines on the upland,

Where the bright red berries rest,
Nor the pinks, nor the pale sweet cowslip,

It seemeth to me the best.

I once had a little brother,

With eyes that were dark and deep;
In the lap of that old dim forest
He lieth in peace asleep:
Light as the down of the thistle,
Free as the winds that blow,
We roved there the beautiful summers,
The summers of long ago;

But his feet on the hills grew weary,

And, one of the autumn eves,

I made for my little brother

A bed of the yellow leaves.
Sweetly his pale arms folded

My neck in a meek embrace,
As the light of immortal beauty
Silently covered his face;
And when the arrows of sunset
Lodged in the tree-tops bright,
He fell, in his saint-like beauty,
Asleep by the gates of light.
Therefore, of all the pictures
Tha hang on Memory's wall,
The one of the dim old forest
Seem th the best of all.

NEARER HOME

BY PHOEBE CARY

One sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o'er and o'er;
I am nearer home to-day

Than I ever have been before;

Nearer my Father's house,

Where the many mansions be; Nearer the great white throne, Nearer the crystal sea;

Nearer the bound of life,

Where we lay our burdens down;

Nearer leaving the cross,

Nearer gaining the crown!

But the waves of that silent sea
Roll dark before my sight
That brightly the other side
Break on a shore of light.

O, if my mortal feet

Have almost gained the brink;

If it be I am nearer home

Even to-day than I think,

Father, perfect my trust!

Let my spirit feel, in death, That her feet are firmly set

On the Rock of a living faith!

THE MUSINGS OF ARROYO AL

BY ARTHUR CHAPMAN

It seems to me this life we lead
Is jest like that in Cattle Land;
A few wild critters will stampede
A quiet and contented band;
And find out what the trouble was!
And can't, because there ain't no cause.

One bawlin' critter in the herd

Kin do much damage on a drive;

His locoed doin's is absurd.

That critter that has scairt the bunch
Don't fetch enough to buy a lunch.

They has to be, it seems to me,

These locoed steers and locoed men. But think how easy life'd be

If, when they bawl and bawl again, The herd'd stand there, as it shud, And jest take fresh holt on its cud!

SUNSET THOUGHTS

BY MINNIE CONWAY

To-night, as I sat by my window,
As the west was all agleam

With that strange and wonderful splendor
That is fleeting as a dream,

I thought that the hands of angels
Had swung heaven's gateway wide,
And I caught some glimpse of the glory
From the hills on the other side.

Is it not a beautiful fancy,

This sunset thought of mine,
That the gates of heaven are always
Swung open at day's decline
That those whose day is ended
Of earthly woes and ills

May pass to the morning of gladness
That dwells on the heavenly hills?

Perhaps while I sat there dreaming
Of the gateway in the west,
Some poor soul went through the portals
To a long and endless rest.

Went in through the sunset gateway

To the city paved with gold,

Passed in to the new life's gladness,

To be no longer old.

When for me the sunset gateway
Shall at day's decline unclose,
And I enter through its portals
To a long and sweet repose,

I know I shall remember

In that land so fair and far My strange and beautiful fancy Of the sunset gates ajar.

THE OLD ARM-CHAIR

BY ELIZA COOK

I love it, I love it! and who shall dare
To chide me for loving that old arm-chair?
I've treasured it long as a sainted prize,

I've bedewed it with tears, I've embalmed it with
sighs.

"T is bound by a thousand bands to my heart;

Not a tie will break, not a link will start;

Would you know the spell?

a mother sat there!

And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair.

In childhood's hour I lingered near

The hallowed seat with listening ear;
And gentle words that mother would give

To fit me to die, and teach me to live.

She told me that shame would never betide

With Truth for my creed, and God for my guide;
She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer,

As I knelt beside that old arm-chair.

I sat, and watched her many a day,

When her eye grew dim, and her locks were gray;
And I almost worshipped her when she smiled,
And turned from her Bible to bless her child.
Years rolled on, but the last one sped,
My idol was shattered, my earth-star fled!
I learnt how much the heart can bear,
When I saw her die in her old arm-chair.

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