its rise; and who are the truer patriots, or the better in time of need-those who venerate the land, owning its wood, and stream, and earth, and all they produce-or those who love their country, boasting not a foot of ground in all its wide domain? -Charles Dickens. Definition of Home. HOME is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence. It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defence, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness, and without any dread of ridicule. -F. W. Robertson. I I Knew by the Smoke that so Gracefully Curled. KNEW by the smoke that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, "If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that is humble might hope for it here!" It was noon, and on flowers that languished around Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound And "Here in this lone little wood," I exclaimed, How blest could I live, and how calm could I die! In every passing age The theme of seer and sage: The painters saw thee in a life long dream; Have fixed the virgin mother for our eyes - Of glory; and abased at thy sweet breast, They found thee, and they fixed thee for our eyes; Before the gazer new Madonnas rise. What matter if the cheek show not the rose, Nor eyes divine are there nor queenly grace, Whatever men may doubt, they put their trust in thee; Oh, Mother!-in that early word The thousand prayers at midnight pour'd Beside our couch of woes; The wasting weariness endured To soften our repose! Whilst never murmur mark'd thy tongue Nor toils relax'd thy care:- What filial fondness e'er repaid, Thy lifeless bosom o'er, We muse upon thy kindness shownAnd wish we'd loved thee more! 'Tis only when thy lips are cold, We mourn with late regret, 'Mid myriad memories of old, The days forever set! And not an act-nor look-nor thoughtAgainst thy meek control, But with a sad remembrance fraught Wakes anguish in the soul ! On every land-in every clime- From which her strength she draws, Then oh may Nations guard that name With filial power and pride! Our Mother. UR mother's lost her youthfulness, Her locks are turning gray, And wrinkles take the place of smilesShe's fading every day. We gaze at her in sorrow now, For though we've ne'er been told, Our mother's lost her youthfulness, Yet still within her heart there shines For oft she'll speak in merry tones, Our mother's lost her youthfulness, Our mother's lost her youthfulness, A sad voice whispers to our hearts,- Our mother's lost her youthfulness, And feel more drearily the truth, Ah! even now the "boatman pale" But gently bear the wearied form Into the phantom bark, She will not fear-CHRIST went before, The way will not be dark; And safe beyond the troubled stream, Her tired heart's strife o'er, Our angel mother, glorified, Will grow old nevermore. |