Page images
[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors][merged small]
[graphic][merged small]




And they will not bind or blind me —

I shall meet death like a man.
Kiss little Blossom; but, father,

Need you tell her how I fall ?"
A sob from the shadowed corner,-

Yes, Blossom had heard it all!
As she kissed the precious letter

She said with faltering breath, “Our Fred is never a traitor,

Though he dies a traitor's death.”

And a little sun-brown maiden,

In a shabby time-worn dress, Took her seat a half-hour later

In the crowded night express. The conductor heard her story

As he held her dimpled hand,
And sighed for the sad hearts breaking

All over the troubled land.
He tenderly wiped the tear drop

From the blue eyes brimming o'er,
And guarded her footsteps safely

Till she reached the White House door.

EORGE HINES GORMAN is the second son

of Alexander M. Gorman, and Mary Edmonds Jordan, and was born in Raleigh, North Carolina, on the 29th of July, 1861. Both of his parents were persons of culture and literary distinction, and from them the son has inherited his love of literature. His father followed the profession of letters, and owned, and ably edited the Spirit of the Age, up to the time of his death in 1865. In addition to the literary work of his own publication, he was a contributor to other periodicals. Mr. Gorman's mother, who is still living, is a writer of merit. Young Gorman received his early education entirely at the hands of his mother, and, indeed, could be induced to receive instruction from no other source; and the devoted love for her which was thus early manifested in his life, has but grown the stronger with the passing years. During his school life he belonged to several literary and de. bating societies, and on two public occasions had awarded to him gold medals for oratory and eloquence. He was a student at the Raleigh Military Academy, and Washington and Lee University, in Lexington, Virginia. He was graduated from the university with distinction, in June, 1884, bringing from thence, as evidences of his ability, the Uni. versity Orator's Medal, and a prize essay medal —

the highest honors which the university could be. | stow on a student. After graduating, Mr. Gorman

located in Norfolk, Virginia, and practiced his profession, the law. Family influence, the young man's own worth, and his undoubted talents, soon brought him a large and varied practice, into which he entered with all the ardor of youth and ambition.

He remained in Norfolk two years, but at the end 1 of that time was obliged to seek a more healthy

climate. He removed to St. Paul, Minn., where he now resides,

M. E. W.

The President sat at his writing;

But the eyes were kind and mild That turned with a look of wonder

On the little shy-faced child. And he read Fred's farewell letter

With a look of sad regret. “'Tis a brave young life," he murmured,

“And his country needs him yet. From an honored place in battle

He shall bid the world good-by; If that brave young life is needed,

He shall die as heroes die."


DRUNKARD. I have mixed my drinks well, — rum, beer, and

champagne: Strong drink in the stomach is death to the brain, And death to affection. Deny it, who can ? A drunkard has only the semblance of man, The form of his Maker, degraded, accursed, The vilest of all living things, and the worst.

-Drinking Annie's Tears.

Within its portals stood a man

Like some grim shadow on Time's shore,
Gray as the walls about him, and

Like them a memory, nothing more, A page from out the deathless past!

-Remember The Alamo.

WHEN thy life is bright

With joyous sweet light That shines like the glorious sun,

And the path you tread

With pleasure is spread, Remember the All-Giving One.

When praises resound

And efforts are crowned With success, and fortune is won;

Forget not to raise

Thy voice in thy praise And thanks to the Bountiful One.

[blocks in formation]

When burdened with care,

Wellnigh to despair,
Then cling to the Crucified One;

For clouds disappear

And skies become clear With the smiles of the Purified One,

When poor or in wealth,

In sickness or health, Still cling to the Comforting One;

And constantly pray,

By night and by day, For blessings from Father and Son.

On land or at sea,

Where'er you may be, Still cling to the Merciful One;

If pleasures caress

Or sorrows distress, Still cling to the All Holy One,

I am King, and my subjects are scattered wide, But, wherever they be, they are leal and tried; And though other kings fall and their kingdoms

wane, Forever and aye must my own remain. It is one to grow greater with lapse of time, And to tower through ages to heights sublime; While the cry of my subjects for aye shall be: Vive la PRESS! for our King is he!" Vive la PRESS!a prophetic cry, For it tells that the glorious By and By Shall be nearer each other by the rule it owns. And that all of mankind, on the earth's broad

zones, Shall the Gospel of Liberty plainly hear; And that darkness and error shall disappear; That the poor and the lowly, the weak, oppressed, Uplifted shall be, and supremely blest! Though I'm silent and lone in my basement dim, I am singing a sweeter and grander hymn Than was ever breathed forth by an earthly choir, And it thrills like the thrill of a living fire! Aye, it rings up the vales, and across the plains, And it bears a bright hope on its sweet refrains; For the beautiful theme of my thrilling song Is that Right shall be victor at last o'er Wrong!


Common griefs are the strongest chains

That friendship e'er employs; And they bind our hearts far closer Than do our common joys.

- Poetic Aphorisms.

Is there a sweeter thing on earth

Than pleasant thoughts, I wonder,
Or a happier man than he
Who has the greatest number?

- Ibid.

There are monarchs who quake at the power I

hold, And who fear that the years of their reign are told,

« PreviousContinue »