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"To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife -

That's the true pathos and sublime
Of human life." BURNS.

[blocks in formation]

THE FAMILY.

EAR Love, whatever fate The flying years unfold, There's none can dissipate The happiness we hold. Whatever cloud may rise,

The very storms grow mild When bend the blissful skies O'er husband, wife, and child.

The errant dreams that failed,
The promises that fled,
The roseate hopes that paled,
The loves that now are dead,
The treason of the past, -
All, all are reconciled:
Life's glory shines at last
On father, mother, child!

56

ONLY A BABY.

To meet the days and years,
With hands that never part;
To shed no secret tears,

To hide no lonely heart;
To know our longing stilled,
To feel that God has smiled:
These are the dreams fulfilled
In Husband, Wife, and Child,
In Father, Mother, Child!

Bayard Taylor.

ONLY A BABY.

NLY a Baby small,

Dropped from the skies!
Only a laughing face-
Two sunny eyes!

Only two cherry lips,

One chubby nose;
Only two little hands,

Ten little toes.

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