faith
Nobly, as the thing is high--
Bravely, as in fronting death,
With a virtuous gravity._

Lead her from the painted boards--
Point her to the starry skies--
_Guard her by your truthful words,
Pure from courtship's flatteries_.

By your truth she shall be true--
Ever true, as wives of yore,
And her "yes" once said to you,
Shall be yes for evermore.

THE RECORD OF DECEMBER.

BY HENRY MORFORD.

Write--with the finger of the angel-born,
Upon the tablet of the human soul,
That old December, wearied and outworn,
Drags on his failing footsteps to the goal.
Write--that the Christmas bells ring on till morn
Peace and eternal pardon to the whole,
And I, before I drop my farewell tear,
Must lay December's closing record here.

Write--for I weary; Age with failing thought
Forgets the triumph of his younger days--
Forgets the changes that himself has wrought--
Forgets the lip that tuned to woman's praise--
Forgets in summer how his fingers brought
Fresh flowers in olden time for manhood's ways,
Forgets all pleasure save an old man's word,
To think of bygone sorrows and record.

Write--ere he passes--even now they come
With wailing harps and wreaths of withered flowers,
To bind his brows and bear him to his home
Amid the multitude of buried hours--
A moment's respite ere his senses numb
And the death throe seals up his mental powers;
He shall not die, e'en in his age and dearth,
Without a legacy of good to earth.

His course has been with manhood, and his name
Has changed with human years--we yet recall
How bounding onward at the first he came,
And trembled wearily unto his fall--
How in his noon of life his strength was flame,
Spurning the very hand that gave him all,
How day by day and month by month he changed,
Till Time on old December is avenged.

The air he breathes is but ingratitude
From each unto the other--from the air
Unto the Giver of Eternal Good,
And from man to the years unceasing care.
Spirit to spirit on the moving flood,
And demon unto demon in his lair,
Jarring with discord, scarcely yet set free
From the kind measure of God's harmony.

And so he gave unto the sons of men
Last winter, snow, and ice, and driving sleet,
And the cold