rses to the ladies fair;
Described the nightingale's clear note,
Or penned an Ode to Daphne's hair.

To dare all for a woman's smile
Or breathe one's heart out in a rose--
Such trifles now are out of style,
The scented manuscript must close.

Yet Villon wrote his roundelays,
And that sweet singer Horace;
But I will sing of other days
In praise of Clara Morris.

Youth is but the joy of life,
Not the eternal moping;
We get no happiness from strife
Nor yet by blindly groping.

All the world's a stage you know
The men and women actors;
A little joy, a little woe--
These are but human factors.

The mellow days still come and go,
The earth is full of beauty;
If we would only think it so,
Life is not all a duty.

And you are young in heart not years,
Is this not true because
You mingle happiness with tears
And do not look for flaws?

Your silver hair is but the snow
That drifts above the roses,
And though the years may come and go
They can but scatter posies.

REQUIESCAT.

(Mrs. Jefferson Davis, widow of the President of the Southern
Confederacy died October 16, 1906.)

Oh weep fair South, and bow thy head
For one is gone beyond recall!
Cast flowers on the sainted dead
Who sleeps beneath a funeral pall.
To the sound of muffled drum,
To the sound of muffled drum.

She saw a noble husband's fame
Grow more enduring with the years,
And in the land his honored name
Loom brighter through a mist of tears,
But the sound of muffled drum!
O the sound of muffled drum!

Our fate is but to meet and part
Upon Life's dark and troubled sea,
Yet recollection stirs the heart,
Of men in gray who used to be,
But the sound of muffled drum!
O the sound of muffled drum!

Brave South, 'tis but a moment's pause
E'er on that dim and distant shore,
The heroes of thy Fallen Cause
Will meet again to part no more
To the sound of muffled drum.
To the sound of muffled drum.

CRABBED.

A college professor one day
Was fishing in Chesapeake Bay;
Said a crab to his mate,
"Let's kick off the bait,
This business is too old to pay."

LIFE.

The list is long, the stories read th