,
And yet I think the hollyhocks,
Of every known variety,
That bloom and bless the humble home,
Are sisters sweet of charity,--
Fair nuns that wear a beauteous cowl,--
God's priestesses unto the soul
That lives in righteous poverty.

BURNS

_Acrostic_

Warm-heated bard, in thee I find
Infinite soul, irradiant mind;
Long-suffering worth and love refined
Lent thee their ken.
In Robert Burns the heart enshrined
E'en mice and men.

ROBERT LOVEMAN

He knows Will Shakespeare's human heart
And feels his godlike brain;
And sings his soul a kindred part
In rondeau and quatrain.

BOOKS

'Tis early morn and on the green
The children are at play;
The sunlight falls in sparkling sheen,
Their hearts are blithe and gay:
A shadow flits across the scene--
The hour has come that sadness brings,
The master rings, the master rings,
'Tis books!

'Tis late at eve, and o'er the green
The weary toilers pass;
The shadows fall, the sky's serene,
And dew is on the grass:
A light breaks in upon the scene--
The hour has come that gladness brings,
The Master rings, the Master rings,
'Tis books!

SONGS UNSUNG

Unvoic-ed songs that always die
On the strings of the harp that gives them birth,
The flutter of hope, a breath, a sigh,
The song nor asks nor gives a why--
The poet's song he deems most worth.

* * * * *

The silent music of the heart is sweet
To listen to. The slow and measured beat
Of the imprisoned soul that finds a voice
In melodious sound oft may rejoice
Us much; but that which sometimes plays on strings
Too fine to sympathize with words e'er sings
The sweetest melodies, though never heard
Except by ear of him whose soul is stirred.

THE RAINBOW'S END

In childhood's fairy hour I watched a bow
The Titian Sun had painted in the skies,
And marveled at its wondrous hues and dyes
And held my breath in silence at its glow;
"The hand of God," I cried, "Divine, I know!"
And at the thought the tears stood in my eyes.
But when I heard that awful pack of lies
About the pot of gold, I said, "'S that so!"

LINEN AND L