WOULD I?

IF I could call him back to my empty arms and breast

And press his cherub head to its wonted place of rest,

If I could bid his eyes yet their frozen lids unseal

And for light their mystic fires that my dead heart might feel,

Would I?

If I could kiss those lips into life and warmth once more

And feel their answering thrill as in precious days of yore,

If I could wake the voice in the little

form all still,

To feed my starving soul, and with joy

my bosom fill,

Would I?

If, with his restful hands I could share the pulsing life

That courses fast through mine, to the bitter toil and strife

Which rise and frown around increasing with our years,

As worn and faint we pass through this woeful vale of tears,

Would I?

If I could bid his feet, that have early sought repose,

Arise and walk anew this troublous path

of woes,

If I could have him tread yet on thistle and on thorn,

That mark our weary steps through these years that creep forlorn,

Would I?

If I could call him back from realms of

perfect light

To bear the cross of life in this slough of sorrow's night,

If I could ease my grief by his secrifice of bliss,

And give his bosom joys of a changeful world like this,

Would I?

If I could go, unstained and as pure as he hath flown

To everlasting founts that can alone calm sorrow's moan,

If I could climb the cloud on angel's wings above

And find my jewel set in the crown of perfect Love,

Would I?

WALTER CLYDE.

SUNSHINE AND SHADOW

He came the day was dull and dead,
The skies were cold and gray;
The slanting rain beat on the pane,
And blurred the tossing bay.
But oh, so dear the tender tone,
His smile so sweet to see,
That in my heart the sunlight shone,
And all was fair to me.

He's gone-the day is fresh and fair,
The skies are warm and bright,
The robin sings; the blithe bee wings
O'er fragrant fields his flight.

But blurred and dim through tearful eyes
The sunlit bay I see;

For on my heart a shadow lies,

And all is dark to me.

"The Manhattan" for August.

WOULD YE BRING THEM BACK?

GONE to the land of life and light, Those whom we loved this fatal year, Risen to mansions fair and bright, Dwelling in God's eternal sight,

Those whom we held so dear-so dear!

What have they left us? Memories deep. Memories holy, and tender, and true. Yea, were death an endless sleep

These would not slumber, these would keep

Safe from decay the forms we knew.

Deathless, in God's diviner sphere,

Rapt, and serene, our loved ones dwell:

Complete in the bliss they prayed for

here,