, unseen, goes down.

Oh, ye with banner and battle shot,
And soldiers to shout and praise,
I tell you the kingliest victories fought
Were fought in those silent ways.

Oh, spotless in a world of shame,
With splendid and silent scorn,
Go back to God as white as you came--
The kingliest warrior born!

_Joaquin Miller._

Echo

"I asked of Echo, t'other day
(Whose words are often few and funny),
What to a novice she could say
Of courtship, love and matrimony.
Quoth Echo plainly,--'Matter-o'-money!'

"Whom should I marry? Should it be
A dashing damsel, gay and pert,
A pattern of inconstancy;
Or selfish, mercenary flirt?
Quoth Echo, sharply,--'Nary flirt!'

"What if, aweary of the strife
That long has lured the dear deceiver,
She promise to amend her life.
And sin no more; can I believe her?
Quoth Echo, very promptly;--'Leave her!'

"But if some maiden with a heart
On me should venture to bestow it,
Pray should I act the wiser part
To take the treasure or forgo it?
Quoth Echo, with decision,--'Go it!'

"But what if, seemingly afraid
To bind her fate in Hymen's fetter,
She vow she means to die a maid,
In answer to my loving letter?
Quoth Echo, rather coolly,--'Let her!'

"What if, in spite of her disdain,
I find my heart entwined about
With Cupid's dear, delicious chain
So closely that I can't get out?
Quoth Echo, laughingly,--'Get out!'

"But if some maid with beauty blest,
As pure and fair as Heaven can make her,
Will share my labor and my rest
Till envious Death shall overtake her?
Quoth Echo (sotto voce),-'Take her!'"

_John G. Saxe._

Life, I Know Not What Thou Art

Life! I know not what thou art,
But know that thou and I must part;
And when, or how, or where we met
I own to me's a secret yet.

Life! we've been long together
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather;
'Tis hard to part when friends are dear--
Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear;

Then steal away; give little warning,
Choose thine own time;
Say not Good Night, but in some brighter clime
Bid me Good Morning.

_Anna L. Barbauld._

Autumn Leaves

In the hush and the lonely silence
Of the chill October night,
Some wizard has worked his magic
With fairy fingers light.

The leaves of the sturdy oak trees
Are splendid with crimson and red.
And the golden flags of the maple
Are fluttering overhead.

Through the tangle o