God's love,

unchanging, pure, and true,

The Paraclete white-shining through
His peace,
the fall of Hermon's dew!

With such a prayer, on this sweet day,
As thou mayst hear and I may say,
I greet thee, dearest, far away!

JOHN GREENLeaf Whittier.

EARLY FRIENDSHIP.

THE half-seen memories of childish days,
When pains and pleasures lightly came and went;
The sympathies of boyhood rashly spent
In fearful wanderings through forbidden ways;
The vague, but manly wish to tread the maze
Of life to noble ends, whereon intent,
Asking to know for what man here is sent,
The bravest heart must often pause, and gaze;
The firm resolve to seek the chosen end
Of manhood's judgment, cautious and mature, -
Each of these viewless bonds binds friend to friend
With strength no selfish purpose can secure :
My happy lot is this, that all attend
That friendship which first came, and which shall
last endure.

FRIENDSHIP.

AUBREY De Vere.

FROM "HAMLET," ACT III. SC. 2.

HAM. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man As e'er my conversation coped withal. HOR. O my dear lord – HAM. Nay, do not think I flatter For what advancement may I hope from thee That no revenue hast but thy good spirits, To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?

No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou

hear?

112

The world uncertain comes and goes, The lover rooted stays.

I fancied he was fled,

And, after many a year,

Glowed unexhausted kindliness,

Like daily sunrise there.

My careful heart was free again;

O friend, my bosom said,

Through thee alone the sky is arched,
Through thee the rose is red;

All things through thee take nobler form,

And look beyond the earth;

The mill-round of our fate appears

A sun-path in thy worth.

Me too thy nobleness has taught

To master my despair;

The fountains of my hidden life
Are through thy friendship fair.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

THE MEMORY OF THE HEART.

IF stores of dry and learned lore we gain,
We keep them in the memory of the brain;
whate'er we knowl-
Names, things, and facts,

edge call,

There is the common ledger for them all;
And images on this cold surface traced
Make slight impression, and are soon effaced.
But we've a page, more glowing and more bright,
On which our friendship and our love to write;
That these may never from the soul depart,
We trust them to the memory of the heart.
There is no dimming, no effacement there;
Each new pulsation keeps the record clear;
Warm, golden letters all the tablet fill,

Nor lose their lustre till the heart stands still.

DANIEL WEBSTER.