oveliest rainbow dye
Tinge the bright wave, nor lessen aught its pride,
Now joyous companies of fair and young
Come lightly forth, with voice of social glee,
But, one by one, as they approach the brink,
A change comes over them. The noisy laugh
Is hushed, the step is soft and reverent,
And the light jest is quenched in solemn thought--
Yea, dull must be his brain and cold his heart
To all the sacred influences that spring
From grandeur and from beauty, who can gaze,
For the first time, on the descending flood
Without restraint upon the flippant tongue.
If such the reverence Great Invisible,
Attendant on one of thy lesser works,
What dread must overwhelm us when the eye
Is opened to the glories of thyself,
Who sway'st the moving universe and holdst
The "waters in the hollow of thy hand."

SONNET.

BY CAROLINE F. ORNE.

There have been tones of cheer, and voices gay,
And careless laughter ringing lightly by,
And I have listened to wit's mirthful play,
And sought to smile at each light fantasy.
But ah, there was a voice more deep and clear,
That I alone might hear of all the throng,
In softest cadence falling on my ear
Like a sweet undertone amid the song.
And then I longed for this calm hour of night,
That undisturbed by any voice or sound,
My spirit from all meaner objects free
Might soar unchecked in its far upward flight,
And by no cord, no heavy fetter bound,
Scorning all space and distance, hold commune with thee.

AUNT MABLE'S LOVE STORY.

BY SUSAN PINDAR.

"How heartily sick I am of these love stories!" exclaimed Kate Lee, as
she impatiently threw aside the last magazine; "they are all flat,
stale, and unprofitable; every one begins with a _soiree_ and ends
with a wedding. I'm sure there is not one word of truth in any of
them."

"Rather a sweeping condemnation to be given by a girl of seventeen,"
answered Aunt Mabel, looking up with a quiet smile; "when I was your
age, Kate, no romance was too extravagant, no incident too improbable
for my belief. Every young heart has its love-dream; and you too, my
merry Kate, must sooner or later yield to such an influence."

"Why, Aunt Mable, who would have ever dreamed of your advocating love
stories! You, so staid, so grave and kindly to all; your affections
seem so universally diffused among us, t