e's seer and sage, the noble Washington!"

XVIII

Thy songs inspire and cheer the human soul,
Still plodding forth in search of Beulah's vale;
Lead wondering lambs into the Master's fold,
When Flora Burgeon's notes far float the gale!
Though Patti Brown we loud applaud and hail,
And Hackley's voice is heard in every land,--
Black Patti is the queenly nightingale
That leads the chorus, as they singing stand
As Miriam stood, to sing thee to the "Promised Land!"

XIX

I see the Prophet's mandate to the land,
In golden letters glit'ring in the sky:
"Fair Ethiopia shall stretch forth her hand,
Her sons shall sway the earth long ere they die!"
As swift as lightnings with the storm-clouds fly,
To light the path celestial feet have trod:
So be thy soaring to the realms on high,
When mortal feet no more shall tread this sod,
And thy holy spirit wings its homeward flight to God!

TO J. S. B.

On seeing her December 25th, 1904, after two years' travel.

Take, fair maid, these simple lines
From my pen;
Think of strollings 'neath the pines,
Which have been--
Long and lonesome were the days
We were apart,
But may Love, now, have her sways,--
Bind heart to heart!
O'er main to isle and back to land
Have I been;
Beheld on either hand
A maiden queen:
But none with captivating charms
Like thine;
None to nestle in her arms,
Love of mine!
Charms unto thee God gave
To banish strife;
To glorify and save
One sweet life--
Take this, dear, before we part
From this bliss;
'Tis but love flowing from my heart,
Thine to kiss!

THE MAYOR'S RING

I hold a token in my hand,
A very tiny thing;
And yet within its golden band
A thousand memories cling.

Aye! thrice ten thousand memories cling
Of signal victories won,
Enshrined within this little ring,
Reward of duty done.

I ever shall this token prize,
And wear it with true grace--
The tie that binds the kindred ties
Of friendship race to race.

And when I soar full through the skies,
Yet ever will I cling
Within the gates of Paradise
This sacred little ring!

WHAT'S THE USE?

Oh! What is living but moving about,
Buoyed up with hope and crushed down by doubt?
What is the draught of breath we harp on as life?
Naught but a sip of peace, a cup full of strife--
What's the use?

What is the place we call our home, "sweet home"?
Naught but a span of space where one