By the Sea, and Other Verses. Baily Hannah Lavinia

listed queries read;

      Raised the duty-standard high,

      Challenged measurement thereby.

      While I queried came a change,

      Silent, solemn, passing strange; —

      Neighbor glided into mist,

      Soul and self were keeping tryst.

      And the queries come anew:

      Soul of mine, be brave and true;

      Lo! our books we balance now;

      I have questioned; answer thou.

      RISEN

      "He is risen; He is risen,

      Here His empty tomb you see;

      And He goeth as He told you

      To the hills of Galilee."

      Thus to loving, loyal women,

      In the centuries agone,

      Angel voices told the story

      Of the resurrection morn.

      He is risen! He is risen!

      Years hand down the glad refrain;

      Let the ages on to ages

      Waft the tidings yet again.

      He who near the Bethlehem manger

      Lowly child of earth was born,

      King of kings reigns all triumphant

      Since the resurrection morn.

      Christ is risen! Calvary's anguish

      All a lost world's ransom paid;

      Then, with tears, "the hope of Israel"

      In the new-made tomb was laid.

      Deep and dark the desolation

      Falling with that night forlorn;

      Radiant the dawn awakening

      With the resurrection morn.

      He has risen! By this token

      We with Him shall rise again;

      Faith shall vanquish doubt and terror,

      Joy shall banish grief and pain.

      No more fear of sin's temptation,

      No more dread of hatred's scorn,

      O the glory purchased for us

      On the resurrection morn!

      Christ is risen! Bow before Him,

      To His courts an offering bring;

      Suffering Lord and Lamb victorious,

      Crown Him Conquerer, Priest and King.

      Robe of light for robe of mocking,

      Diadem for crown of thorn,

      Wears He now, and in His likeness

      Rise we, satisfied, immortal,

      In the resurrection morn.

      ELIZABETH CROWNED

      Elizabeth of Hungary, a widow at the age of twenty, was sought in marriage by Frederick II., Emperor of Germany. She, having taken a vow never to marry again, declined his offer, and devoted her life to deeds of kindness and charity. She died at the age of twenty-four, and was canonized as a saint by Gregory IX. At this ceremony Frederick placed upon her head a golden crown, saying, "Since thou wouldst not be crowned as my Empress, I crown thee to-day as an immortal Queen in the kingdom of God."

      When once I saw thee, fair, yet sad and lone, —

      Tho wealth and beauty waited at thy hand —

      I would have crowned thee, saintly one, mine own;

      Glad would have had thee share with me my throne,

      Bride of my heart, and Empress of my land!

      But thou wert wedded to thy valiant dead,

      And to the service of a Christ-like love;

      So by thy hand the suffering poor were led,

      And from thy bounty were the hungry fed,

      Till came thy summons to the Court Above.

      Now hast thou passed from tears and pain away,

      Thine ear hath caught the heavenly melodies; —

      So be it mine, with reverent touch, to-day,

      On thy fair head this diadem to lay,

      And crown thee Queen immortal for the skies!

      WHO IS SUFFICIENT?

      Six-and-thirty little mortals

      Coming to be taught;

      And mine that most "delightful task

      To rear the tender thought."

      Merry, mischief-loving children,

      Thoughtless, glad and gay,

      Loving lessons – "just a little,"

      Dearly loving play.

      Six-and-thirty souls immortal,

      Coming to be fed;

      Needing "food convenient for them,"

      As their daily bread.

      Bright and happy little children,

      Innocent and free,

      Coming here their life-long lessons

      Now to learn of me.

      Listen to the toilsome routine,

      List, and answer them,

      For these things who is sufficient

      'Mong the sons of men?

      Now they, at the well-known summons,

      Cease their busy hum;

      And, some with pleasure, some reluctant,

      To the school-room come.

      Comes a cunning little urchin

      With defiant eye,

      "Making music" with his marbles

      As he passes by.

      But, alas! the pretty toys are

      Taken from him soon,

      And the music-loving Willie

      Strikes another tune!

      Comes a lisping little beauty,

      Scarce five summers old;

      Baby voice and blue eyes pleading,

      "Please, misth, I'm stho cold!"

      Little one, the world is chilly,

      All too cold for thee;

      From its storms "Our Father" shield thee,

      And thy refuge be.

      While I turn to caution Johnny

      Not to make such noise;

      Mary parses: "Earth's an adverb,

      In the passive voice."

      Well, indeed, it must be passive,

      Else it is not clear

      How such open language-murder,

      Goes unpunished here.

      "Second Reader Class" reciting —

      "Lesson verse or prose?"

      None in all the class is certain;

      Each one thinks he knows.

      "Well," is queried then, "the difference

      Who can now define?"

      Answers