opefully stand
Strong in the thought I have lived not in vain.
Had I won but this treasure,--this lilly-white hand.

Shut Out.

_"The drunkard shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven."_

Far, far beyond the skies,
The land of promise lies;
When Death our souls release,
A home of love and peace,
Has been prepared for all,
Who heed the gracious call,
Drunkards that goal ne'er win,--
They cannot enter in.

Time noiselessly flits by,
Eternity draws nigh;
Will the fleet joy you gain,
Compensate for the pain,
That through an endless day,
Will wring your soul for aye?
Slave to beer, rum, or gin,
You cannot enter in.

Dash down the flowing bowl,
Endanger not thy soul;
Ponder those words of dread,
That God Himself has said.
Hurl the vile tempter down,
And win and wear the crown,
Drunkard, forsake thy sin,
Thou mayst then enter in.

Charming May.

"O! charming May!"
That's what they say.
The saying is not new,--
The saying is not true;--
O! May!

Bare fields and icebound streams,
Sunshine in fitful gleams,
May smile
Beguile,
And dispel poets' dreams.

Was ever May so gay
As what the poets say?
If so,
We know,
We live not in their day.

A cosy coat and wrap,
You may not find mishap--
Propo
You know
When comes the next cold snap.

A heavy woollen scarf,
Strong boots that reach the calf,--
Away we go
Through snow and slush and wet,--
And can we once forget
'Tis May? Oh, no!

Best is the old advice
Which we so oft despise,
"Cast not a clout
Till May goes out."
May like a maiden, lies.

A Maypole dance.--O, my!
Such sport is all "my eye,"
Just try,
I tried it and I know,
The snow, the blow,
The aching toes, the smarting nose.

I all defied,
And loudly cried
"Come on,
Each one,
Be gay! be gay!--'Tis May! Tis May"
They laughed and shook the head,
And this is what they said,
"Old Skunk, he's drunk."

Still we do love her so,--
Her truth? O, no!
She's like some fancy fickle,
She lands you in a pickle,
You grin and bear,
Maybe you swear
In manner most alarming,
And yet--Sweet May is charming.

Who Cares?

Down in a cellar cottage
In a dark and lonely street,
Was sat a widow and her boy,
With nothing left to eat.

The night was wild and stormy,
The wind howl'd round the door,
And heavy rain drops from above
Kept dri