<0ur J;tatt's wom.orrnw The Emire of thi·s nonhero \\'e~t Is strong without. but with thee blest. Thy wealth. thy honor soon shall be The pride of states from sea to sea. When from thy rock-ribbed hills are hurlea The gold and silver for the world; When from thy forests proud anon. Is reaped the best-like Lebanon Thy name upon all winds shall Ay, The cynosure of every eye. And when thy deserts are remade With g-rass and gardens. groves and shade; And palaces of princely worth Bedeck thy lands from south to northAll! then children shall rise of theeMen of thy mothers who shall be · Kings in this work of fair design Of making Eden's greatness thine. ).f. A. YOTHERS.
Down in the ,·ale where the ,·iolets arc growing, Where echo and re-echo songs of the falb; There where the mild breath of summer is blowing. Enticingly, sweetly wild nature now calls. Calls to my heart that is weary with sorrow, Calls with a sweetness all her own, And she sings me songs of the morrow, Throbbing and singing in Aowers and stone.
I. who a sweet (luiet hour would treasure, Follow her ,·oice as she leads me afar, Dancing and si nging in joyous pleasure Under the light of the western star. Here in the dell. where the violets are growing. Here. where the wild echoes tremble and fall, Here, where the mild breath of summer is blowing. I am with Nature. and ~he is all. M. A.
YoTRERS.