LIBRARY, OF CONGRESS. 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
THE BIRTHDAY BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICAN POETS. 
 
<^yMc^^CM^ 
 
THE 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 Birthday Book 
 
 OF 
 
 American Poets 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 ALMIRA L. HAYWARD 
 
 
 BOSTON 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY 
 
 1882 ^ V 
 
^g5?(. 
 
 X 
 
 Copyright, 1880, /881, 
 By James R, Osgood and Company. 
 
 A/i rights reserved. » 
 
 University Press : 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 OPOE TS ! crowned with years and fame, 
 Ye need 7iot here be called by name, 
 As at yoitr feet I humbly lay 
 This sheaf Pve gathered day by day. 
 Its fairest, ripest grain was found 
 In your own fields, rich, world-renoivned ; 
 And that of lesser worth will gain 
 A deeper value, if ye deign 
 To take it in your honoring hands. 
 In this your own and other lands. 
 Your birthdays have been loved and kept 
 By many who with you have wept 
 The vanished face of him who, led 
 By '"''-an unfaltering trust, ^^ is dead. 
 Yet lives, as ye shall live, reve7'ed. 
 By every year the more endeared. 
 
 A. L. H. 
 
 Cambridge, September, 1880. 
 
PUBLISHERS' NOTE. 
 
 npHIS Birthday Book has been com- 
 piled upon a plan that ranges over 
 the whole field of American poetry, and 
 includes all the most striking and appro- 
 priate passages wherever found. 
 
 The superior variety and richness of 
 such selection as far excels a collection 
 from any one author as the whole body 
 of American verse exceeds that of even 
 its most eminent single member. 
 
 Selected portraits of many of the best- 
 known poets complete and accompany 
 the quotations from their works. 
 
LIST OF PORTRAITS. 
 
 Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 
 
 William Cullen Bryant. 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson. ^ 
 
 Bret Harte. ^ 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 William Dean Howells. 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 Edgar Allan Poe. 
 
 Edmund Clarence Stedman. 
 
 Richard Henry Stoddard. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 John Greenleaf Whittier. 
 
THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 New Year, if you were bringing Youth, 
 
 As you are bringing Age, 
 I would not have it back, in sooth; 
 
 I have no strength to wage 
 Lost battles over. Let them be. 
 
 Bury your dead, O Memory ! 
 
 Good-by, since you are gone, Old Year, 
 
 And my past life, good-by ! 
 I shed no tear upon your bier. 
 
 For it is well to die 
 New Year, your worst will be my best — 
 
 What can an old man w^ant but rest ? 
 
 E. H. Stoddard. 
 
 The years have linings just as goblets do : 
 The old year is the lining of the new ; 
 Filled with the wine of precious memories. 
 The golden zvas doth line the silver is, 
 
 C. F. Bates. 
 
a^^'-b^'^-'^ 
 
JANUARY. 
 
 Unwarmed by any sunset light 
 
 The gray day darkened into night, — 
 
 A night made hoary with the swarm 
 
 And whirl-dance of the blinding storm, 
 
 As zigzag wavering to and fro 
 
 Crossed and recrossed the winged snow ; 
 
 And ere the early bed-time came 
 
 The white drift piled the windows-frame, 
 
 And through the glass the clothes-line posts 
 
 Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts. 
 
 So all night long the storm roared on : 
 The morning broke without a sun ; 
 
 All day the hoary meteor fell, 
 
 And when the second morning shone 
 
 We looked upon a world unknown ; 
 
 No cloud above, no earth below, — 
 A universe of sky and snow ! 
 
 7. G. Whittier. 
 
January 1. 
 
 Lament who will, in fruitless tears, 
 The speed with which our moments fly; 
 I sigh not over vanished years, 
 But watch the years that hasten by. 
 
 IV. C. Bryant. 
 
 Go breathe it in the ear 
 
 Of all who doubt and fear, 
 
 And say to them, " Be of good cheer." 
 
 H. W. Lo7igJellozv. 
 
 January 2, 
 
 None looked upon her but he straightway thought 
 Of all the greenest depths of country cheer, 
 And into each one's heart was freshly brought 
 What was to him the sweetest time of year; 
 So was her every look and motion fraught 
 With out-of-door delights and forest lere ; 
 Not the first violet on a woodland lea 
 Seemed more a visible gift of Spring than she. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 — January S, 
 
 Merrily upon the land. 
 Gay and grand, 
 Here I stand. 
 And turn my eyes to see 
 What life may mean to me. 
 \ ^ .S". Phelps. 
 
 He serves all who dares be true. 
 
 R. IV. Enters 071. 
 
January 1. 
 
 January 2, 
 
 January S, 
 
January 4- 
 
 Loveliest of lovely things are they 
 • On earth, that soonest pass away. 
 
 The rose that lives its little hour 
 Is prized beyond the sculptured flower ; 
 Even love, long tried and cherished long, 
 Becomes more tender and more strong, 
 At thought of that insatiate grave 
 From which its yearnings cannot save. 
 
 AF. C. Bryant. 
 
 Jamiary 5, 
 
 Though love repine and reason chafe, 
 There came a voice without reply — 
 
 "'Tis man's perdition to be safe 
 
 When for the truth he ought to die." 
 
 i?. W. Emerson. 
 
 Men's lives, like oceans, change 
 
 In shifting tides, and ebb from either shore 
 
 Till the strong planet draws them on once more. 
 
 E. C, Stedtnan. 
 
 January 6. 
 
 Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened 
 
 his missal. 
 Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest 
 
 devotion ; 
 Happy was he who might touch her hand or the 
 
 hem of her garment ! //. iv. Lo7i^feUoiv. 
 
 Through love to light ! Through light, O God, to 
 
 thee, 
 Who art the Love of love, the eternal Light of light ! 
 
 R. IV. Gilder. 
 
January 4- 
 
 January J. 
 
 January 6, 
 
January 7. • 
 
 Thy dress was like the lilies, 
 
 And thy heart as pure as they : 
 One of God's holy messengers 
 Did walk with me that day. 
 
 H . W, Longfellow. 
 Year after year her tender steps pursuing, 
 Behold her grown more fair. 
 
 H. IV. Longfellow. 
 
 January 8. 
 
 His youth was innocent ; his riper age 
 
 Marked with some act of goodness every day ; 
 
 And watched by eyes that loved him, calm and sage, 
 Faded his late declining years away. 
 
 Cheerful he gave his being up and went 
 
 To share the holy rest that waits a life well spent 
 
 W. C. Bryant. 
 
 January P. 
 
 Underneath the winter's snows, 
 The invisible hearts of flowers grow ripe for blos- 
 soming ! 
 And the lives that look so cold, if their stories 
 
 could be told. 
 Would seem cast in gentler mould, would seem full 
 of love and spring. 
 
 r. B.Aldrkh. 
 
January 
 
 January 8. 
 
 January 9. 
 
January 10. 
 
 Her name before she was a queen boots not. 
 When she was crowned, her kmgdom said, "The 
 
 Queen ! ^' 
 And, after that, all other names too mean 
 By far had seemed. Perhaps all were forgot, 
 Save " Queen, sweet Queen/' 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackson. 
 
 January 11. 
 
 Hearts, like apples, are hard and sour. 
 Till crushed by Pain's resistless power; 
 And yield their juices rich and bland 
 To none but Sorrow's heavy hand. 
 The purest streams of human love 
 
 Flow naturally never. 
 But gush by pressure from above. 
 
 With God's hand on the lever. 
 
 •y. G. Holland. 
 
 January 12, 
 
 Ah, dream too bright to last ! 
 Ah, starry Hope ! that didst arise 
 
 But to be overcast ! 
 A voice from out the future cries 
 
 " On ! On ! " but o'er the Past, 
 (Dim gulf !) my spirit hovering lies 
 
 Mute, motionless, aghast. 
 
 E.A.Poe. 
 
Jamtary 10, 
 
 January 11. 
 
 January 12, 
 
January IS, 
 
 Proud abroad, and proud at home, 
 Proud wherever she chanced to come. 
 When she was glad and when she was glum ; 
 
 Proud as the head of a Saracen 
 Over the door of a tipplmg-shop ! 
 Proud as a duchess, proud as a fop, 
 " Proud as a boy with a bran-new top," 
 
 Proud beyond comparison ! 
 
 y. G. Saxe. 
 
 January H, 
 
 Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, ■ 
 
 Is our destined end or way; 
 But to act that each to-morrow 
 
 Find us farther than to-day. 
 
 In the world's broad field of battle. 
 
 In the bivouac of Life, 
 Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! 
 
 Be a hero in the strife ! 
 
 H. IV. Longfellow. 
 
 January 15, 
 
 A beautiful and happy girl. 
 
 With step as light as summer air. 
 Eyes glad with smiles, and brow of pearl, 
 Shadowed by many a careless curl 
 
 Of unconfined and flowing hair ; 
 A seeming child in every thing. 
 
 Save thoughtful brow and ripening charms, 
 As Nature wears tlie smile of Spring 
 
 When sinking into Summer's arms. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 10 
 
January IS, 
 
 January llf. 
 
 January 15. 
 
 11 
 
January 16. 
 
 True to all Truth the world denies, 
 Not tongue-tied for its gilded sin ; 
 
 Not always right in all men's eyes, 
 But faithful to the light withni. 
 
 Who makes another's grief his own. 
 Whose smile lends joy a double cheer; 
 
 Where lives the saint, if such be known ? 
 Speak softly, — such an one is here ! 
 
 O. W. Hohnes. 
 
 January 17. 
 
 Like one who leaves the trampled street 
 
 For some cathedral, cool and dim. 
 Where he can hear in music beat 
 
 The heart of prayer, that beats for him; 
 Restored and comforted, I go 
 
 To grapple with my tasks again; 
 Through silent worship taught to know 
 
 The blessed peace that follows pain. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 January 18. 
 
 He shall guide the van of Truth, 
 
 And in manhood as in youth 
 
 Be her fearless, be her peerless Color-Bearer ! 
 
 y. T. Troivbridge. 
 
 Shall they who drag their crosses aye in sadness, 
 
 Their faces to the dust, 
 Not carry palms at last, or know the gladness 
 
 Of souls that rest and trust ? 
 
 Mrs. M. L. Dickinson 
 
 12 
 
January 16, 
 
 January 17, 
 
 January 18. 
 
 13 
 
January 19. 
 
 Go where he will, the wise man is at home, 
 His hearth the earth, — his hall the azure dome; 
 Where his clear spirit leads him, there's his road, 
 By God's own light illumined and foreshowed. 
 
 R. W. Emerson. 
 All things come round to him who will but wait. 
 
 H. IV. Lofigfeilow. 
 
 January 20, 
 
 Like the prairie lilies 
 Grew a tall and slender maiden. 
 With the beauty of the moonlight. 
 With the beauty of the starlight. 
 
 H. VV. Longfellow. 
 
 Men know thee most as one who loves his race. 
 And bless thee with their love. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 January 21. 
 
 Yet act thy part, heroic heart ! 
 
 For only by the strong 
 Are great and noble deeds achieved; 
 No truth was ever yet believed 
 
 That had not struggled long. 
 
 J. T. Trowbridge. 
 
 From w^ells where Truth in secret lay 
 He saw the midnight stars by day. 
 
 IV. D. Howells. 
 
 14 
 
January 19. 
 
 January 20. 
 
 January 21, 
 
 15 
 
January 22, 
 
 Angel of Patience ! sent to calm 
 Our feverish brows with cooling" palm ; 
 To lay the storms of hope and fear, 
 And reconcile life's smile and tear ; 
 The throbs of womided pride to still, 
 And make our own our Father's will. 
 
 J. G. Whitiier. 
 
 January 28. _ 
 
 We should waste no moments in weak regret, 
 
 If the day were but one ; 
 If what we remember and what we forget 
 
 Went out with the sun ; 
 We should be from our clamorous selves set free, 
 
 To work or to pray, 
 
 To be what the Father would have us be. 
 
 If we had but a day. 
 
 Mrs. M. L. Dickinson. 
 
 January 2^- ^ 
 
 Count me o'er earth's chosen heroes, — they were 
 souls that stood alone, 
 
 While the men they agonized for hurled the con- 
 tumelious stone. 
 
 Stood serene, and down the future saw the golden 
 beam incline 
 
 To the side of perfect justice, mastered by their 
 faith divine. 
 
 By one man's plain truth to manhood and to God's 
 supreme design. y. R. Lowell, 
 
 16 
 
January 22, 
 
 January 23. 
 
 January 24- 
 
— January 25\ 
 
 Patience; accomplish thy labor, accomplish thy 
 work of affection ! 
 
 Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endur- 
 ance is godlike. 
 
 Therefore accomplish thy labor of love till the 
 heart is made godlike, 
 
 Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered 
 more worthy of heaven! 
 
 H. IV, Lo7i^feilow. 
 
 January 26, — 
 
 Among so many, can He care ? 
 Can special love be everywhere ? 
 I asked : my soul bethought of this : — 
 In just that very place of His 
 Where He hath put and keepeth you, 
 God hath no other thing to do ! 
 
 Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney. 
 
 — January 27, -— — 
 
 T saw her there a household dove, 
 In consummated peace of love ; 
 And sweeter joy and saintlier grace 
 Breathed o'er the beauty of her face. 
 
 The mother's smile, the children's kiss, 
 And home's serene abounding bliss; 
 The fruitage of a life that bore 
 But idle summer blooms before. 
 
 Bayard Taylor, 
 
 18 
 
January 25. 
 
 January 26. 
 
 January 27* 
 
 V.) 
 
January 28, 
 
 So trusting Him whose love he knows, 
 Singing along the road he goes ; 
 And nightly of his burden makes 
 A pillow till the morning breaks. 
 
 He longs to go, — he loves to stay; — 
 For God is both his Home and Way. 
 
 Lucy Larcoir. 
 
 January 29, 
 
 Dear maid, in thy girlhood's opening flower. 
 
 Scarce weaned from the love of childish play ! 
 The tears on whose cheeks are but the shower 
 
 Tiiat freshens the blooms of early May ! 
 Light-hearted maiden, oh, heed thy feet ! 
 
 Oh, keep w^here that beam of Paradise falls; 
 And only wander where thou may'st meet 
 
 The blessed ones from its shining walls. 
 
 W. C Bryant. 
 
 - January SO. 
 
 Some men were born for great things. 
 
 Some were born for small. 
 Some, it is not recorded 
 
 Why they were born at all. 
 
 Will CarletoH. 
 
 I once was a jolly young beau 
 
 And knew how to pick up a fan, 
 But I've done with all that, you must know. 
 
 For now I'm a family man ! 7- G. Saxe. 
 
 20 
 
January 28. 
 
 January 29, 
 
 January SO. 
 
 21 
 
January SI. 
 
 Therefore, great heart, bear up ! thou art but type 
 
 Of what all lofty spirits endure, that fain 
 
 Would vvm men back to strength and peace through 
 
 love : 
 Each hath his lonely peak, and on each heart 
 Envy, or scorn, or hatred, tears lifelong 
 With vulture beak ; yet the high soul is left ; 
 And faith, which is but hope grown wise ; and love 
 And patience, which at last shall overcome. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 22 
 
January SI, 
 
FEBRUARY. 
 
 Come when the rams 
 Have glazed the snow, and clothed the trees with ice, 
 While the slant sun of February pours 
 Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach ! 
 The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps, 
 And the broad arching portals of the grove 
 Welcome thy entering. Look ! the massy trunks 
 Are cased in the pure crystal ; each light spray, 
 Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven. 
 Is studded with its trembling water-drops, 
 That glimmer with an amethystine light. 
 
 All, all is light; 
 Light without shade. But all shall pass away 
 With the next sun. From numberless vast trunks. 
 Loosened, the crashing ice shall make a sound 
 Like the far roar of rivers, and the eve 
 Shall close o'er the brown woods as it was wont. 
 
 IV. C. Bryant, 
 
 25 
 
Fehritary 1. 
 
 God forgive me ! But I've thought 
 A thousand times that if I had His power, 
 Or He my love, we'd have a different world 
 From this we live in, 
 
 y. G. Holland. 
 
 What matters it ! A few years more, 
 Life's surge, so restless heretofore, 
 Shall break upon the unknown shore ! 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 February 2. 
 
 Fair as a summer's dream was Margaret, — 
 Such dream as in a poets soul might start, 
 
 Musing of old loves while the moon doth set : 
 Her hair was not more sunny than her heart. 
 
 Though like a natural golden coronet 
 
 It circled her dear head, with careless art 
 
 Mocking the sunshine, that would fain have lent 
 
 To its frank grace a richer ornament. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 February S, 
 
 No fear that any poet dies unknown. 
 Whose songs are written in the hearts that know 
 And love him, though their partial verdict show 
 The tenderness that moves the critic's blame. 
 Those few have power to lift his name above 
 Forgetfulness, to grant that noblest fame 
 Which sets its trumpet to the lips of Love ! 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 26 
 
February 1. 
 
 February 2. 
 
 February 3. 
 
 27 
 
February 4- 
 
 Day has blue heavens, but Baptiste has blue eyes. 
 Within them shines for me a heaven of love, 
 A heaven all happiness like that above. 
 
 //. IV. Longfellow. 
 
 The very flowers that bend and meet, 
 In sweetening others grow more sweet. 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 
 February 5, 
 
 Whom He will choose. He chooseth : some to honor, 
 Some to dishonor; this to be and bear, 
 And that to dare and do ; these bear his swords, 
 And these his chains. 
 
 E. S. Phelps. 
 
 God sets some souls in shade alone ; 
 They have no daylight of their own : 
 Only in lives of happier ones 
 They see the shine of distant suns. 
 
 Mrs. A . D. T. Whitney. 
 
 February 6, 
 
 I wish — that friends were always true. 
 
 And motives always pure ; 
 I wish the good w^ere not so few, 
 
 I wish the bad were fewer ; 
 I wish that parsons ne'er forgot 
 
 To heed their pious teaching ; 
 I wish that practising was not 
 
 So different from preaching ! 
 
 y. G. Saxe. 
 
 28 
 
February 4* 
 
 February 5, 
 
 February 6, 
 
 29 
 
February 7. 
 
 I have no answer for myself or thee, 
 
 Save that I learned beside my mother's knee : 
 
 " All is of God that is, and is to be ; 
 
 And God is good." Let this suffice us still, 
 
 Resting in childlike trust upon his will 
 
 Who moves to his great ends unthwarted by the 
 
 ill. y. G. WhUtier. 
 
 February 8, 
 
 Ripe were the maiden's years; her stature showed 
 
 Womanly beauty, and her clear, calm eye 
 
 Was bright with venturous spirit, yet her face 
 
 Was passionless, like those by sculptor graved 
 
 For niches in a temple. Lovers oft 
 
 Had wooed her, but she only laughed at love. 
 
 And wondered at the silly things they said. 
 
 IV. C. Bryant. 
 
 February 9, 
 
 Nothing useless is or low ; 
 
 Each thing in its place is best ; 
 And what seems but idle show 
 
 Strengthens and supports the rest. 
 
 In the elder days of Art 
 
 Builders wrought with greatest care 
 Each minute and unseen part ; 
 
 For the Gods see everywhere. 
 
 //, W. Longfellow, 
 
 30 
 
February 7. 
 
 February 8. 
 
 February 9. 
 
 3J 
 
February 10, 
 
 God sends what the true heart brings : 
 
 Stranger or familiar hand, 
 Priest among his holy things, 
 
 Only bears the gift He planned. 
 
 And the best of all He sends 
 
 -Ts no measured dole, but love ; 
 Is not cumbering goods, but friends; 
 Winged souls with ours to move. 
 
 Lticy Larcoin. 
 
 February 11. 
 
 Life is joy, and love is power, 
 
 Death all fetters doth unbind, 
 Strength and wisdom only flower 
 
 When we toil for all our kind. 
 Hope is truth, — the future giveth 
 
 More than present takes away, 
 And the soul for ever liveth 
 
 Nearer God from day to day. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 February 12, 
 
 Alas ! by what rude fate 
 
 Our lives, like ships at sea, an instant meet. 
 
 Then part for ever on their courses fleet ! 
 
 E. C. Stedman. 
 
 Angels of Life and Death alike are His; 
 
 Without His leave they pass no threshold o'er; 
 Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, 
 
 Against His messengers to shut the door ? 
 
 H> IV, Lotigfelloiv, 
 
 32 
 
February 10, 
 
 February 11, 
 
 February 12, 
 
 33 
 
■ February IS. 
 
 A]] common things, each day's events, 
 That with the hour begin and end, 
 
 Our pleasures and our discontents, 
 Are rounds by which we may ascend. 
 
 We have not wings, we cannot soar; 
 
 But we have feet to scale and climb 
 By slow degrees, by more and more, 
 
 The cloudy summits of our time. 
 
 H. TV. Longfellow. 
 
 February H, 
 
 Life is good and life is fair, 
 Love awaits thee everywhere : 
 Love ! is Love's immortal prayer. 
 
 Live for love, and thou shalt be, 
 Loving others, true to me : 
 Love, I follow, follow thee ! 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 ■ February 15. 
 
 A heart, which, like a fine-toned lute, 
 With every breath of feeling woke, 
 And even when the tongue was mute. 
 From eye and lip in music spoke. 
 
 y. G. Whiiiier. 
 He did not find his sleep less sweet 
 For music in some other street. 
 
 H. IV, Longfellotv- 
 
 34 
 
February IS, 
 
 February llf.. 
 
 February 15. 
 
 35 
 
February 16, 
 
 They who love best need friendship most ; 
 Hearts only thrive on varied good ; 
 And he who gathers from a host 
 Of friendly hearts his daily food 
 Is the best friend that we can boast. 
 
 J. G. Holland 
 
 February 17. 
 
 Queen of a day, by flatterers caressed, 
 How beautiful ! how beautiful she is ! 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 Her beauty, guarded, kept her beautiful. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 Is it slow slipping beads, or patient folding 
 
 Of stained hands in prayer 
 That makes them purer, or the faithful holding 
 
 Of what God gives to bear ? 
 
 Mrs. M. L . Dickinson. 
 
 — February 18. 
 
 Laughing words and peals of mirth 
 
 Long are changed to grave endeavor 
 Sorrow's winds have swept to earth 
 Many a blossomed hope forever. 
 Thunder-heads have hovered o'er — 
 
 > Storms my path have chilled and shaded ; 
 Of the bloom my gay youth bore, 
 Some has fruited, more has faded. 
 
 Will Carleton. 
 
 36 
 
February 16. 
 
 February 17. 
 
 February 18. 
 
 37 
 
February 19. 
 
 "Sunshine of Saint Eulalie " was she called; for 
 that was the sunshine 
 
 Which, as the farmers believed, would load their 
 orchards with apples; 
 
 She, too, would bring to her husband's house delight 
 and abundance, 
 
 Filling it full of love and the ruddy faces of chil- 
 dren. H. W\ Longfellow. 
 
 Hold fast the truth that God is good. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 February 20, 
 
 The dropping of love's golden fruit. 
 The slowly builded walls of distance, 
 The outstretched hand, the meeting foot. 
 Withdrawn in doubt, and drear, late chance 
 Of cooling Autumn ; wind and sand 
 On the land. — 
 But I stand. 
 And brush my tears to see 
 All that life means to me. 
 
 E. S, Phelps, 
 
 February 21, 
 
 High was her heart, and yet was well inclined. 
 
 Her manners made of bounty well refined ; 
 
 For capitals, and marble courts, her eye still seemed 
 
 to see. 
 Minstrels and kings and high-born dames, and of 
 
 the best that be. 
 
 R. IV, Emerson. 
 
 38 
 
February 19. 
 
 February 20. 
 
 February 21. 
 
 39 
 
February 22. 
 
 Strength to his hours of manly toil ! 
 
 Peace to his starlit dreams ! 
 Who loves alike the furrowed soil, 
 
 The music-haunted streams ! 
 
 Sweet smiles to keep forever bright 
 
 The sunshine on his lips, 
 And faith that sees the ring of light 
 
 Round nature's last eclipse ! 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 
 February 23, 
 
 In all his ways 
 He showed that quiet of the upper world 
 A breath can turn to tempest, and the force 
 Of rooted firs that slowly split the stone. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 Be but yourselves, be pure, be true, 
 And promjDt in duty ; heed the deep, 
 Low voice of conscience. 
 
 y. G. Whitiier. 
 
 February 2J^, 
 
 If tears were dry and laughter should seem strange ; 
 And if the soul should doubt itself and falter : 
 Since God is God, and He can never change, 
 The fashions of the earth and Heaven may alter; 
 Why should we care } Mrs. S. M B. Piatt. 
 
 His face is truly of the Roman mould. 
 He bears within the heart of Cato, too ; 
 
 Although his look may seem severe and cold 
 He never would be false to truth or you. 
 
 C. F. Bates. 
 
 40 
 
February 22. 
 
 February 23, 
 
 February 2^. 
 
 41 
 
February 25, 
 
 He loved his friends, forgave his foes ; 
 
 And if his words were harsh at times, 
 He spared his fellow-men, — his blows 
 
 Fell only on their crimes. 
 
 He loved the good and wise, but found 
 His human heart to all akin 
 
 Who met him on the common ground 
 Of suffering and of sin. 
 
 J. G. Whittler. 
 
 February 26- 
 
 A face to lose one's life for ; ay, and more. 
 To live for ! 
 
 E. C. Stedtnan. 
 
 Blessing she is : God made her so, 
 And deeds of week-day holiness 
 Fall from her noiseless as the snow, 
 Nor hath she ever chanced to know 
 That aught were easier than to bless. 
 
 J. R. Lowell. 
 
 February 27. 
 
 Across the mighty deep 
 Of human souls his songs for ever move ; 
 Like freighted ships their destined ways they keep. 
 Yet, soon or late, all harbors richer prove 
 When in there float the white sails of his thought. 
 
 C. F. Bates. 
 
 42 
 
February 25, 
 
 February 26, 
 
 February 27. 
 
 43 
 
February 28. 
 
 A brave simplicity of soul 
 
 And ceaseless vigilance, by honor bred 
 
 Stayed him, and o'er his actions held control. 
 
 E. C. Stedman. 
 Our to-days and yesterdays 
 Are the blocks with which we build. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 February 29. 
 
 Native goodness is unconscious, asks not to be rec- 
 ognized ; 
 
 But its baser affectation is a thing to be despised. 
 
 Only when the man is loyal to himself shall he be 
 prized. 
 
 If I live the life He gave me, God will turn it to His 
 use. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 44 
 
February 28, 
 
 February 29, 
 
r 
 
MARCH. 
 
 Beneath the sheltering walls the thin snow 
 
 clings, — 
 Dead winter's skeleton, left bleaching white, 
 Disjointed, crumbling, on unfriendly fields. 
 The inky pools surrender tardily 
 At noon, to patient herds a frosty drink 
 From jagged rims of ice ; a subtle red 
 Of life is kindling every twig and stalk 
 Of lowly meadow growths ; the willows wrap 
 Their stems in furry white ; the pines grow gray 
 A little in the biting wind ; midday 
 Brings tiny burrowed creatures, peeping out 
 Alert for sun. 
 
 Ah, March ! we know thou art 
 Kind-hearted, spite of ugly looks and threats, 
 And, out of sight, art nursing April's violets. 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackson. 
 
 47 
 
March 1, 
 
 The very room, coz she was in, 
 Seemed warm from floor to ceilin', 
 
 An' she looked full as rosy agin, 
 Ez the apples she was peelin'. 
 
 'Twas kin' o' kingdom-come to look 
 
 On such a blessed creeter, 
 A dogrose blush in' to a brook 
 
 Ain't modester nor sweeter. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 March 2, 
 
 As unto the bow the cord is. 
 So unto the man is woman : 
 Though she bends him, she obeys him. 
 Though she draws him, yet she follows. 
 Useless each without the other ! 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 All are needed by each one ; 
 
 Nothing is fair or good a}one. 
 
 R. W, Emerson, 
 
 March 3. 
 
 For both are his own, — the innocence 
 
 That climbs from the heart of earth to heaven, 
 
 And the virtue that gently rises thence 
 Through trial sent and victory given. 
 
 IV, D. Ho wells. 
 
 On every side he open was as day. 
 
 That you might see no lack of strength within. 
 
 //. D. Thoreau. 
 
 48 
 
March 1, 
 
 March 2, 
 
 March S. 
 
 49 
 
March 4- 
 
 For angels wait on Providence, 
 
 And mark the sundered places, 
 
 To graft with gentlest instrument 
 
 The heavenly graces. 
 
 y. G. Holland. 
 
 I would choose to have my past as it is, 
 And to let my future come as it will ! 
 
 Phoebe Cary, 
 
 March 5. 
 
 Wert thou an untried dweller in the sky ? 
 Is there betwixt the cherub that thou wert. 
 The cherub and the angel thou mayst be, 
 A life's probation in this sadder world ? 
 Art thou with memory of two things only. 
 Music and light, left upon earth astray. 
 And, by the watchers at the gate of heaven. 
 Looked for with fear and trembling ? 
 
 N. P. Willis. 
 
 March 6. 
 
 O Baby, dainty Baby Bell, 
 How fair she grew from day to day ! 
 
 What woman nature filled her eyes, 
 What poetry within them lay, — 
 
 Those deep and tender twilight eyes, 
 So full of meaning pure and bright, 
 As if she yet stood in the light 
 
 Of those oped gates of Paradise. 
 
 T. B. Aidrich. 
 
 50 
 
March 4- 
 
 March 5, 
 
 March 6. 
 
 51 
 
March 7. 
 
 O noble soul, whose strengths like mountains stand, 
 Whose purposes, like adamantine stone, 
 Bar roads to feeble feet, and wrap the land 
 In seeming shadow, thou, too, hast thine own 
 Sweet valleys full of flowers for me alone, 
 Unseen, unknown, undreamed of by the mass. 
 Who do not know the secret of the Pass. 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackson. 
 
 March 8, 
 
 The rose of your cheek is precious ; 
 
 Your eyes are warmer than wine ; 
 You catch men's souls in the meshes 
 
 Of curls that ripple and shine — 
 
 But, ah ! not mine. 
 
 Bayard Taylor, 
 
 Ah ! little coquette ! Fair deceit ! 
 Some things are bitter that were sweet. 
 
 W. D. Howeils. 
 
 March 9, 
 
 She saw the weak in their sad shadow dying. 
 The strong on heights of ease in purple lying ; 
 Then turned to one who stood by her, whose face 
 Revealed the glory of all manliest grace. 
 In trust and joy she leaned upon his breast 
 Who held her as the sum of strength and rest. 
 They spoke not, but as angels smile, they smiled, 
 And down into the world went, following their 
 child. Mrs. Z. B. Gnstafson. 
 
 52 
 
March 7. 
 
 March S. 
 
 March 9, 
 
 53 
 
— 3Iarch 10. 
 
 Well hast thou borne the bleak March day of life. 
 Its storms and its keen winds to thee have been 
 Most kindly tempered, and through all its gloom 
 There has been warmth and sunshine in thy heart ; 
 The griefs of life to thee have been like snows, 
 That light upon the fields in early spring, 
 Makmg them greener. 
 
 W. C. Bryant. 
 
 March 11, 
 
 Write on your doors the saying wise and old, 
 " Be bold ! be bold ! '^ and everywhere — " Be bold ; 
 Be not too bold ! " Yet better the excess 
 Than the defect ; better the more than less ; 
 Better like Hector in the field to die, 
 Than like a perfumed Paris turn and fly. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 March 12. 
 
 They brought me rubies from the mine, 
 
 And held them to the sun ; 
 I said, they are drops of frozen w^ine 
 
 From Eden's vats that run. 
 
 I looked again, — I thought them hearts 
 
 Of friends to friends unknown ; 
 Tides that should warm each neighboring life 
 
 Are locked in sparkling stone. 
 
 R. JV. Emerson. 
 
 54 
 
March 10, 
 
 - March 11. 
 
 March 12. 
 
 55 
 
March IS, 
 
 All hearts grew warmer in the presence 
 Of one who, seeking not his own, 
 Gave freely for the love of giving, 
 Nor reaped for self the harvest sown. 
 
 Thy greeting smile was pledge and prelude 
 Of generous deeds and kindly words : 
 In thy large heart were fair guest-chambers, 
 Open to sunrise and the birds ! 
 
 y. G. Whittier, 
 
 March U. 
 
 Watch her kindly, stars : 
 From the sweet protecting skies, 
 Follow her with tender eyes, 
 Look so lovingly that she 
 Cannot choose but think of me : 
 
 Watch her kindly, stars ! 
 
 Phcebs Cary. 
 
 — March 15. ■ 
 
 With antique air 
 
 Of nicest courtesy, his words did sue, 
 
 The while his tone commanded. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 To clothe the iiery thought 
 In simple words succeeds, 
 For still the craft of genius is 
 To mask a king in weeds. 
 
 R. W. Emerson. 
 
 56 
 
March IS. 
 
 March IJf, 
 
 March 15. 
 
 hi 
 
Mctrch 16. 
 
 He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face 
 
 of the morning, 
 Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened 
 
 thought into action. ^- ^- Longfellow. 
 
 Why should I hug life's ills with cold reserve 
 To curse myself and all who love me ? Nay ! 
 
 A thousand times more good than I deserve 
 God gives me every day. ^rs» Celia Thaxter. 
 
 March 17. 
 
 Oh, in her meek, forgiving eye 
 
 There was a brightness not of mirth, 
 
 A light whose clear intensity 
 
 Was borrowed not of earth. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 When she spake her voice was like a dove's. 
 Soft, even-toned, and sinking in the heart. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 ■ March 18. 
 
 Peace to the just man's memory ; let it grow 
 Greener with years, and blossom through the flight 
 Of ages ; let the mimic canvas show 
 His calm benevolent features ; let the light 
 Stream on his deeds of love, that shunned the sight 
 Of all but Heaven ; and in the book of fame, 
 The glorious record of his virtues write, 
 And hold it up to men, and bid them claim 
 A palm like his, and catch from him the hallowed 
 flame. JV. C. Bryant. 
 
 58 
 
March 16. 
 
 March 17. 
 
 March 18, 
 
 59 
 
March 19. 
 
 They never crowned him, never knew his worth, 
 
 But let him go milaurelled to the grave : 
 
 Hereafter there are guerdons for the brave, 
 
 Roses for martyrs who wear thorns on earth, • 
 
 l)alms for bruised hearts that languish in the dearth 
 
 Of human love. 
 
 T. B. Aidrich 
 
 March 20. 
 
 Yet it is a comfort to feel, through the whole, 
 They only look great, in God's calm eyes, 
 Who lean on the still, grand strength of the soul. 
 And climb toward the pure, high light of the skies. 
 
 Mrs. S, M. B. Piatt. 
 
 March 21. 
 
 Learn to live, and live to learn. 
 Ignorance like a fire doth burn. 
 Little tasks make large return. 
 
 Toil, when willing, groweth less , 
 '* Always play " may seem to bless. 
 Yet the end is weariness. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 60 
 
March 19. 
 
 March 20, 
 
 March 21. 
 
 Gl 
 
March 22. 
 
 The heart of God through his creation stirs ; 
 We thrill to feel it, trembling as the flowers 
 That die to live again, — his messengers. 
 To keep faith firm in these sad souls of ours. 
 
 The waves of Time may devastate our lives, 
 The frosts of age may check our failing breath, 
 They shall not touch the spirit that survives 
 Triumphant over doubt, and pain, and death. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 March 28. 
 
 I 
 
 She stood like Ruth amid the wheat, 
 With ready hand and sickle keen, 
 And looked on all with aspect sweet ; 
 And wjiere she only thought to glean, 
 She found a harvest round her feet. 
 
 y. G. Hollatid. 
 
 March 2 If. 
 
 I'd like to be a daisy 
 
 In the clover, 
 That I might look up bravely 
 
 At my lover. 
 
 What should I do, I wonder, 
 
 When he went ? 
 Why, I would — like a daisy — 
 
 Be content. Mrs. M. M. Dodge. 
 
 02 
 
March 22. 
 
 March 23, 
 
 March 24, 
 
 G3 
 
March 25. 
 
 She hath a natural, wise sincerity, '^ 
 
 A simple truthfulness, and these have lent her 
 
 A dignity as moveless as the centre ; 
 
 So that no influence of earth can stir 
 
 Her steadfast courage, nor can take away 
 
 The holy peacefulness, which, night and day 
 
 Unto her queenly soul doth minister. 
 
 J. R. Lowell. 
 
 March 26. 
 
 Youth longs and manhood strives, but age remem- 
 bers. 
 Sits by the raked-up ashes of the past, 
 Spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers 
 That warm its creeping life-blood till the last. 
 Dear to its heart is every loving token 
 That comes unbidden ere its pulse grows cold. 
 Ere the last lingering ties of life are broken. 
 Its labors ended and its story told. 
 
 O. W. Holmes 
 
 March 27. 
 
 Were a star quenched on high. 
 
 For ages would its light. 
 Still travelling downward from the sky. 
 
 Shine on our mortal sight. 
 
 So when a great man dies. 
 
 For years beyond our ken. 
 The light he leaves behind him lies 
 
 Upon the paths of men. //. w. Longfellow. 
 
 64 
 
March 25, 
 
 March 23, 
 
 March 27, 
 
 65 
 
3Iarch 28. 
 
 His name was spoken far and near, 
 And sounded sweet on every tongue; 
 Men knew him only to revere, 
 And those who knew him nearest, flung 
 Their hearts before his grand career, 
 And paved his way with loyal trust. 
 
 y. G. Holland. 
 
 March 29. — 
 
 The way at times may dark and weary seem, 
 No ray of sunshine on our path may beam, 
 The dark clouds hover o'er us like a pall, 
 And gloom and sadness seem to compass all, 
 But still, with honest purpose, toil we on ; 
 And if our steps be upright, straight, and true, 
 Far in the east a golden light shall dawn, 
 And the bright smile of God come bursting through. 
 
 IV ill Car lei OH. 
 
 — — March SO. — — 
 
 My birthday ! " How many years ago ? 
 
 Twenty or thirty ? ^' Don't ask me ! 
 " Forty or fifty ? " How can 1 tell } 
 
 I do not remember my birth, you see ! 
 
 But — how old am I ? You must tell. 
 
 Just as old as I seem to you ! 
 Nor shall I a day older be 
 
 While life remaineth and love is true ! 
 
 Mrs. y. C. R. Dorr. 
 
 66 
 
March 28. 
 
 March 29, 
 
 March 30. 
 
 67 
 
March 31. 
 
 I hold 
 That 'twas the fitting season for thy birth, 
 When March, just ready to depart, begins 
 To soften into April. Then we have 
 The delicatest and most welcome flowers, 
 And yet they take least heed of bitter wind 
 And lowering sky. .... 
 Yet ever, when the sun looks forth again 
 The flowers smile up to him from their low seats. 
 
 IV» C. Bryant. 
 
March 31, 
 
 69 
 
APRIL. 
 
 " My name is April, sir ; and I 
 
 Often laugh, as often cry ; 
 
 And I cannot tell what makes me : 
 
 Only as the fit o'ertakes me 
 
 I must dimple, smile, and frown, 
 
 Laughing, though the tears roll down. 
 
 But 'tis nature, sir, not art ; 
 
 And I'm happy at my heart." 
 
 Mrs. Z. B. Gust of son- 
 
 April cold with dropping rain 
 Willows and lilacs brings again, 
 The whistle of returning birds 
 And trumpet-lowing of the herds. 
 
 R, W. Emerson, 
 
 71 
 
April 1. 
 
 I walk, with noiseless feet, the round 
 
 Of uneventful years ; 
 
 Still o'er and o'er I sow the spring, 
 
 And reap the autumn ears. 
 
 7. G. Whittier, 
 
 The clover blossoms in the grass 
 Rise up to kiss thy feet. 
 
 H, W, Longfellow, 
 
 April 2, 
 
 Her mouth is a honey-blossom, 
 No doubt, as the poet sings ; 
 But within her lips, the petals, 
 Lurks a cruel bee that stings. 
 
 IV. D. Howells. 
 She never felt the poverty 
 Of souls less favored than her own. 
 
 Pkcebe Cary. 
 
 April S, 
 
 He met the men of many a land ; 
 They gave their souls into his hand ; 
 
 And none of them was long unknown ; 
 The hardest lesson was his own. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 We love in others what we lack ourselves, 
 And would be every thing but what we are. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 72 
 
April 1. 
 
 April 2, 
 
 April S, 
 
 73 
 
April 4, 
 
 The honest choice of good or ill, 
 A heart of marble, prayer, and fire, 
 The strength to do, the power to will 
 From earth's reluctance. Heaven's desire, 
 And God's step upon the land 
 (Grave and grand), 
 Glad I stand. 
 And lift my eyes to see 
 The life He sends to me. 
 
 E. S. Phelps. 
 
 April 5. 
 
 My dear young friend, whose shining wit 
 
 Sets all the room ablaze. 
 Don't think yourself "a happy dog " 
 
 For all your merry ways ; 
 But learn to wear a sober phiz, 
 
 Be stupid, if you can, 
 It's such a very serious thing 
 
 To be a funny man ! 
 
 y. G. Saxe. 
 
 April 6. — 
 
 Thought must shade and sun the soul 
 
 With its glorious mutations ; 
 Every life song is a whole. 
 
 Sweeter for its variations. 
 Wherefore with your bliss at strife ? 
 
 'Twas an angel that withstood you. 
 Could you change your perfect life 
 
 For a dream of living, — would you ? 
 
 Lncy Larcotn. 
 
 74 
 
April 7. 
 
 For still in mutual sufferance lies 
 
 The secret of true living : 
 Love scarce is love that never knows 
 
 The sweetness of forgiving 
 
 He sees with eyes of manly trust 
 
 All hearts to her inclining ; 
 Not less for him his household light 
 
 That others share its shhiing. 
 
 y. G. Whittier, 
 
 April 8. 
 
 A star that shines with flickering spark, 
 
 Thou dost not wane away, 
 But shed'st adown the purple dark 
 
 The fulness of thy ray : 
 A rose, whose odors freely part 
 
 At every zephyr's will. 
 Thou keep'st within thy folded heart 
 
 Its virgin sweetness still ! 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 . April 9. 
 
 Words measure life, and they measure its joy ! 
 Thou hast more joy in thy childish years, 
 Than the birds of a hundred tuneful spheres, 
 So — sing with the beautiful birds, my boy ! 
 
 y. G. Holland. 
 Through the ill 
 And discord round about you, keep 
 Your faith in human nature still. 
 
 7, G. Whittier. 
 
 76 
 
April 10, 
 
 Her youth — ■ oh ! that was queenly ! she was like 
 
 A dream of poetry that may not be 
 
 Written or told — exceeding beautiful ! 
 
 . . . . She had a mind 
 
 Deep and immortal, and it would not feed 
 
 On pageantry. 
 
 N. P. Willis, 
 
 — April 11, 
 
 Well and wisely said the Greek, 
 Be thou faithful, but not fond ; 
 To the altar's foot thy fellow seek, 
 The Furies wait beyond. 
 
 R. IV. Emerson. 
 Be gentle : unto griefs and needs. 
 Be pitiful as woman should. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 April 12. 
 
 Thy voice is like a fountain 
 
 Leaping up in sunshine bright, 
 And I never weary counting 
 Its clear droppings, lone and single. 
 Or when in one full gush they mingle 
 Shooting in melodious light. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
April 10, 
 
 April 11. 
 
 Ajjril 12, 
 
 79 
 
April IS. 
 
 Through sorrow come glimpses of infinite gladness ; 
 Through grand discontent mounts the spirit of 
 
 youth ; 
 Loneliness foldeth a wonderful loving ; 
 The breakers of Doubt lead the great tide of Truth ; 
 And dread and grief-haunted the shadowy portal 
 That shuts from our vision the splendor immortal. 
 
 Mrs, M, M. Dodge. 
 
 April IJf. 
 
 " She has no heart," they said, and turned away: 
 Then, stung so that I wished my words might be 
 Two-edged swords, I answered low : — 
 
 " That woman's life, I know 
 Has been all famine. Mock now, if ye dare, 
 To hear her brave sad laughter in the air." 
 
 Mrs, H. H. Jackson. 
 
 April 15. 
 
 Through every web of life the dark threads run. 
 
 Oh, why and whither } God knows all ; 
 
 I only know that he is good, 
 
 And that whatever may befall 
 
 Or here or there, must be the best that could. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 80 
 
April IS, 
 
 April 14. 
 
 Ap7nl 15. 
 
 81 
 
April 16. 
 
 Not his the feverish will to live 
 
 A summer's life, a longer space, 
 Save that the Eternal Law might give 
 
 The boon in common to his race. 
 Earth, 'twas thy heaven he loved, and best 
 
 Thy precious offspring, man and woman, 
 And labor for them seemed but rest 
 
 To him, w^hose nature was so human. 
 
 E. C Stedman. 
 
 ■ April 17, 
 
 The binding up of bruised reeds 
 Of thought and act; the steady bearing 
 Out of scorned purposes to deeds ; 
 The rest of strife ; the doubt of daring, — 
 The hope that He will understand 
 Why my hand 
 (Though I stand), 
 Trembles at my eyes to see 
 What else life means to me. 
 
 E. S. Phelps, 
 
 April 18. 
 
 A lady, the loveliest* ever the sun 
 Looked down upon, you must paint for me ; 
 Oh, if I only could ma-ke you see 
 The clear blue eyes, the tender smile, 
 The sovereign sweetness, the gentle grace. 
 The woman's soul and the angel's face 
 That are beaming on me all the w^hile ! 
 
 Alice Cary. 
 
 82 
 
A2jril 16. 
 
 April 17, 
 
 A2yril 18. 
 
 83 
 
April 19. 
 
 Oh, deem not they are blest alone 
 Whose lives a peaceful tenor keep ; 
 
 The Power who pities man has shown 
 A blessing for the eyes that weep. 
 
 There is a day of sunny rest 
 
 For every dark and troubled night ; 
 
 And grief may bide an evening guest, 
 But joy shall come with early light. 
 
 W. C. Bryant. 
 
 April 20, 
 
 Once on my mother's breast, a child, I crept, 
 
 Holding my breath ; 
 There, safe and sad, lay shuddering, and wept 
 
 At the dark mystery of Death. 
 
 Weary and weak, and worn with all unrest. 
 
 Spent with the strife, 
 O mother, let me weep upon thy breast 
 
 At the sad mystery of Life ! 
 
 W. D. Howells. 
 
 April 21. 
 
 An infant prince, a baby king, 
 
 To whom his ministers relate 
 
 Some intricate affairs of state : 
 
 He hears and weighs the smallest thing. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 God's hand is on thee, O my child; God's grace 
 Go with thee. 
 
 E. S. Phelps. 
 
 84 
 
April 19, 
 
 April 20, 
 
 April 21. 
 
 85 
 
April 22, — — 
 
 Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, 
 As the swift seasons roll ! 
 Leave thy low vaulted past ! 
 Let each new temple, nobler than the last, 
 Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, 
 Till thou at length art free. 
 
 Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea. 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 
 April 28. 
 
 How wise he is ! He can talk in Greek ! 
 There isn't a language he cannot speak. 
 The very measure the Psalmist sung 
 He carries at will on the tip of his tongue. 
 When he argues in English, why, every word 
 Is almost the biggest that ever you heard ! 
 That is, when he talks with papa it's so, — 
 With me it's another affair, you know. 
 
 Mrs. M. M. Dodge. 
 
 April 2Jf. 
 
 Elegance floats about thee like a dress. 
 Melting the airy motion of thy form 
 Into one swaying grace ; and loveliness. 
 Like a rich tint that makes a picture warm, 
 Is lurking in the chestnut of thy tress, 
 Enriching it, as moonlight after storm 
 Mingles dark shadows into gentleness. 
 
 N, P. Willis. 
 
 86 
 
April 22, 
 
 April 23. 
 
 April 24., 
 
 87 
 
April 25, 
 
 So nigh is grandeur to our dust, 
 
 So near is God to man, 
 When Duty whispers low, T/ioti musi^ 
 
 The youth replies, I can, 
 
 R. W. Emerson. 
 
 He would have wiped with smiles away 
 The tears from every face. 
 
 R, H, Stoddard. 
 
 April 26. 
 
 Time hath been kind to her, 
 And the years have brought her treasures 
 
 Of frankincense and myrrh. 
 Richer, perhaps, and rarer 
 Than Life's young roses were. 
 
 Mrs. y. C. R. Dorr. 
 Oh, well for the fortunate soul 
 Which Music's wings infold, 
 Stealing away the memory 
 Of sorrows new and old ! R. iv. Ei7ierson. 
 
 April 27. 
 
 How many lives, made beautiful and sweet 
 By self-devotion and by self-restraint, 
 Whose pleasure is to run without complaint 
 On unknown errands of the Paraclete, 
 Wanting the reverence of unshodden feet, 
 Fail of the nimbus which the artists paint 
 Around the shining forehead of the saint. 
 And are in their completeness incomplete ! 
 
 H. W. Loiigfelloiv. 
 
April 25. 
 
 April 26. 
 
 April 27. 
 
 89 
 
April 28, 
 
 Thine eyes are springs, in whose serene 
 And silent waters heaven is seen; 
 Their lashes are the herbs that look 
 On their young figures in the brook. 
 
 The forest depths by foot unpressed 
 Are not more sinless than thy breast; 
 The holy peace that fills the air 
 Of those calm solitudes is there. 
 
 W. C. Bryant. 
 
 April 29. — 
 
 I know a man like that great cloud 
 
 As much as he can live, 
 And he gives his alms with thunder-cloud 
 
 Where there is no need to give. 
 
 And I know a woman who doth keep 
 
 Where praise comes not at all, 
 Like the modest cloud that could but weep 
 
 Because she was so small. 
 
 Alice Cary. 
 
 April SO. 
 
 To homely joys and loves and friendships 
 
 Thy genial nature fondly clung; 
 And so the shadow on the dial 
 
 Ran back and left thee always young. 
 
 And who could blame the generous weakness 
 
 Which, Only to thyself unjust, 
 So overprized the worth of others, 
 
 And dwarfed thy own with self-distrust. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 90 
 
Aj^ril 28. 
 
 April 29, 
 
 April 30. 
 
 91 
 
^i}-{J7\/ cnM-^ . 
 
MAY. 
 
 The voice of one who goes before to make 
 The paths of June more beautiful, is thine, 
 Sweet May ! Without an envy of her crown 
 And bridal ; patient stringing emeralds 
 And shining rubies for the brows of birch 
 And maple ; flinging garlands of pure white 
 And pink, which to their bloom add prophecy ; 
 Gold cups o'er-filling on a thousand hills. 
 And calling honey-bees ; out of their sleep 
 The tiny summer harpers with bright wings 
 Awaking, teaching them their notes for noon ; — 
 Oh May, sweet-voiced one, going thus before. 
 For ever June may pour her warm red wine 
 Of life and passion, — sweeter days are thine ! 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackson, 
 
 93 
 
May 1, 
 
 Sorrows are everywhere, 
 
 Joys — all too few ! 
 Have we not had our share 
 
 Of pleasure too ? 
 No Past the glad heart cowers, 
 
 No memories dark ; 
 Only the sunny hours 
 
 The dial mark. 
 
 E. C Stednian. 
 
 May 2. 
 
 Boldness and firmness, these are virtues each; 
 Noble in action; excellent in speech. 
 But who is bold without considerate skill. 
 Rashly rebels, and has no law but will ; 
 While he called firm, illiterate, and crass, 
 With mulish stubbornness obstructs the pass. 
 
 y. B. O'Reilly. 
 
 May 3. 
 
 " Thou art poor, art thou ? Yet thou lovest me ! " 
 
 Her pale face flushed with a burning red : 
 " Well, Maud is poor, and she loveth thee ; 
 
 So now we are rich, are we not ? " she said. 
 And faltered, all trembling with love confessed ; 
 
 And I, with knowing I was so dear. 
 Trembled, but gathered my rose to my breast ; 
 
 And Love was answered, and Life was clear. 
 
 Mrs. Z, B. Gustafson. 
 
 94 
 
- May 1\ 
 
 May 2. 
 
 May S. 
 
 95 
 
May 4, 
 
 I would be quiet, Lord, 
 
 Nor tease nor fret ; 
 Not one small need of mine 
 
 Wilt thou forget. 
 
 What I most crave, perchance 
 
 Thou wilt withhold, 
 As we from hands unmeet 
 
 Keep pearls, or gold. 
 
 Mrs. y. C. R. Dorr. 
 
 May 5. 
 
 "Every Rose, you sang, has its Thorn, 
 
 But this has none, 1 know." 
 She clasped my rival's Rose 
 
 Over her breast of snow. 
 
 I bowed to hide my pain. 
 
 With a man's unskilful art ; 
 I moved my lips, and could not say 
 
 The Thorn was in my heart! 
 
 IV. D. Howelis. 
 
 May 6, 
 
 We rise by the things that are under feet ; 
 By what we have mastered of good and gain ; 
 By the pride deposed and the passion slain, 
 And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet. 
 
 y. G. Holland. 
 
 Give and receive ; go forth and bless 
 
 The world that needs the hand and heart 
 
 Of Martha's helpful carefulness. 
 No less than Mary's better part. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
May 4. 
 
 May 5. 
 
 May 6. 
 
 97 
 
^ May 7. 
 
 One thing alone I hope, desire : 
 To make my human life come nigher 
 The life these lead whose silent gaze 
 Reproaches me and all my ways ; 
 
 And go without one quickened breath, 
 Finding all realms of life, of death, 
 But summer hours in sunny lands, 
 To my next house not made with hands. 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackso7u 
 
 May 8. 
 
 The birds sang sweeter for her face. 
 Her lifted eyes were like a grace 
 To woodmen of that solitude. 
 Aye, she was fair and very fair. 
 
 Joaquin Miller, 
 
 God's sweet pity ministers 
 Unto no whiter soul than hers. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 May 9. 
 
 True worth is in being., not seeming^ — 
 In doing each day that goes by 
 Some little good — not in the dreaming 
 Of great things to do by and by. 
 
 There's nothing so kingly as kindness, 
 And nothing so royal as truth. 
 
 Alice Cary. 
 
 98 
 
May 7 
 
May 10. 
 
 He taught the virtues, first and last, 
 He taught us manhood, more and more, 
 
 The simple courage that stands fast, 
 The patience of the poor ; 
 
 Love for all creatures, great and small, 
 
 And trust in Something over all. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard, 
 
 May 11. 
 
 I come not here your morning hour to sadden, 
 
 A limping pilgrim leaning on his staff, — 
 I, who have never deemed it sin to gladden 
 This vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh. 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 They think your very grief '* a joke," 
 You're such a funny man. 
 
 y. G. Saxe. 
 
 May 12. 
 
 Wandering voices in the air, 
 And murmurs in the wold, 
 Speak what I cannot declare. 
 Yet cannot all withhold. 
 
 R. W. Emerson. 
 She was pure and white 
 As angel, and as fearless quite. 
 
 Joaquin Miller, 
 
 100 
 
101 
 
May 13, 
 
 Only in dreams is a ladder thrown 
 From the weary earth to the sapphire walls; 
 But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, 
 And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone. 
 
 Heaven is not reached at a single bound; 
 But we build the ladder by which we rise 
 From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 
 And we mount to its summit, round by round. 
 
 y. G. Holland. 
 
 May U. 
 
 How can I cease to pray for thee ? Somewhere 
 In God's great universe thou art to-day : 
 
 Can He not reach thee with His tender care ? 
 Can He not hear me when for thee I pray? 
 
 Mrs. y.C. R. Dorr. 
 
 Heart ! yield thee up thy fruitless quest 
 
 Beneath the apple-tree : 
 Youth comes but once, love only once. 
 
 And May but once to thee ! 
 
 E. S. Phelps. 
 
 • May 15, 
 
 A woman, in her woman's sphere, 
 A loyal wife and worshipper, 
 She only thirsted to appear 
 As fair to him, as he to her. 
 And fairer still, from year to year. 
 
 y. G. Holland. 
 
 102 
 
May IS, 
 
 May U, 
 
 May 15, 
 
 103 
 
May 16. 
 
 Benevolence befits the wisest mind; 
 But he who has not studied to be kind, 
 Who grants for asking, gives without a rule, 
 Hurts whom he helps, and proves himself a fool. 
 
 y. B. O'Reilly. 
 
 His heart, through life's conflict and peril. 
 Has kept its first truth 
 And the dreams of its youth. 
 
 Phcehe Cary. 
 
 May 17. 
 
 Oh, the years I lost before I knew you, 
 
 Love ! 
 Oh, the hills I climbed and came not to you. 
 
 Love ! 
 Ah ! who shall render unto us to make 
 
 Us glad. 
 The things which for and of each other's sake 
 We might have had? 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackson. 
 
 May 18. 
 
 What if the battle end and thou hast lost ? 
 
 Others have lost the battle thou hast won ; 
 Haste thee, bind thy wounds, nor count the cost; 
 
 Over the field will rise to-morrow's sun. 
 'Tis all in a lifetime. 
 
 E. C. Stednzaii. 
 
 104 
 
May 19. 
 
 Thine was the seed-time ; God alone 
 Beholds the end of what is sown ; 
 Beyond our vision weak and dim, 
 The harvest-time is hid with Him. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 O honest face which all men knew ! 
 O tender heart but known to few ! 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 — .^ May 20, 
 
 He had a way of saying things 
 
 That made one think of counts and kings, 
 
 And lords and ladies of high degree ; 
 
 So that not having been at court 
 
 Seemed something very little short 
 
 Of treason or lese-majesty. 
 
 Such an accomplished knight was he. 
 
 H. VV. Lottg fellow. 
 
 — May 21. 
 
 Thank God there is always a light whence to bor- 
 row. 
 
 When darkness is darkest, and sorrow most sor- 
 row ! 
 
 Alice Cary. 
 
 I had met kindness by the way, 
 I had, at last, encountered good ! 
 
 Joaqjiin Miller. 
 
 106 
 
May 22. 
 
 Too pure thy lips for passion's kiss ; 
 
 Too fair thy cheek love's rose to be : 
 The brightest dream of Beauty's bliss 
 
 Is dark beside the dream of thee. 
 Thine eyes were lit from other skies ; 
 
 Thy limbs are made of purer clay ; 
 And wandering airs of Paradise 
 
 Before thee breathe the mists away. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 May 28, 
 
 If the world seems cold to you, 
 
 Kindle fires to warm it ! 
 Let their comfort hide from view 
 
 Winters that deform it. 
 Hearts as frozen as your own 
 
 To that radiance gather. 
 You will soon forget to moan, 
 
 " Ah ! the cheerless weather ! " 
 
 Lucy Larcoin. 
 
 May 2i, 
 
 The wise man is sincere ; but he who tries 
 To be sincere, hap-hazard, is not wise. 
 
 Knowledge is gold to him who can discern 
 That he who loves to know, must love to learn. 
 
 y. B. O'Reilly. 
 
 108 
 
May 25, 
 
 No king so gentle and so wise. 
 He calls no man his subject ; but his eyes, 
 In midst of benediction, questioning. 
 Each soul compel. 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackson. 
 
 Doors hast thou opened for us, thinker, seer, 
 Bars let down into pastures measureless; 
 
 The air we breathe to-day, through thee, is freer 
 Than, buoyant with its freshness, we can guess. 
 
 Litcy Larconi. 
 
 ^ ■ May 26. — 
 
 O power to do ! O baffled will ! 
 
 O prayer and action ! ye are one. 
 Who may not strive, may yet fulfil 
 The harder task of standing still, 
 
 And good but wished with God is done. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 May 27. 
 
 No grievous cost in any thing I see. 
 That brings thee bliss, or only keeps thee, still, 
 In painless peace. So Heaven but thy cup fill. 
 Be empty mine unto eternity! 
 
 R. IV. Gilder. 
 
 What heart in all the city is not thine ? 
 The heart that is not thine no longer beats. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 110 
 
May 28, ■ 
 
 And Nature, the old nurse, took 
 
 The child upon her knee, 
 Saying : " Here is a story-book 
 
 Thy father has written for thee." 
 
 And he wandered away and away 
 With Nature the dear old nurse, 
 
 Who sang to him night and day. 
 The rhymes of the universe. 
 
 H. W. Long/ello-w. 
 
 — May 29, 
 
 As fair and frail. 
 
 As May's first lily in a Northern vale. 
 
 Bayard Taylor, 
 
 The fountain of joy is fed by tears. 
 
 And love is lit by the breath of sighs ; 
 
 The deepest griefs and the wildest fears 
 
 Have holiest ministries. 
 
 7. G. Holland. 
 
 May 30, 
 
 And deepest feeling hides about the mouth ; 
 His soul-wind blows not always from the North, 
 But sometimes also from the gentle South, 
 And then, like flowers, the tender words steal forth. 
 
 C. F. Bates. 
 Self-ease is pain ; thy only rest 
 Is labor for a worthy end. 
 
 y. G. Whiiiier. 
 
 112 
 
Maij 31. 
 
 He lives wherever men to men 
 
 In perilous hours his words repeat ; 
 Where clangs the forge, where glides the pen, 
 
 Where toil and traffic crowd the street; 
 And in whatever time or place 
 
 Earth's purest souls their purpose strengthen, 
 Down the broad pathway of the race 
 
 The shadow of his name shall lengthen. 
 
 E. C. Stedman. 
 
 lU 
 
w«AvsA« v>i s c^-'v-oyxii^^ 
 
JUNE. 
 
 'Tis Heaven alone that is given away, 
 *Tis only God may be had for the asking ; 
 No price is set on the lavish summer ; 
 June may be had by the poorest comer. 
 
 And what is so rare as a day in June ? 
 Then, if ever, come perfect days. 
 Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune. 
 And over it softly her warm ear lays. 
 
 J. R. Lowell, 
 
 The bobolink has come, and, like the soul 
 
 Of the sweet season vocal in a bird, 
 
 Gurgles in ecstasy we know not what 
 
 Save June I Dear June I Now Cod be praised for 
 
 June I 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 117 
 
June 1, 
 
 Let him not boast who puts his armor on 
 As he who puts it off, the battle done. 
 Study yourselves ; and most of all note well 
 Wherein kind Nature meant you to excel. 
 Not every blossom ripens into fruit. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 June 2, 
 
 Wisely, my son, while yet thy days are long. 
 And this fair change of seasons passes slow. 
 Gather and treasure up the good they yield, — 
 All that they teach of virtue, of pure thoughts 
 And kind affections, reverence for thy God 
 And for thy brethren ; so when thou shalt come 
 Into these barren years, thou mayst not bring 
 A mind unfurnished, and a withered heart. 
 
 tV, C, Bryajit. 
 
 June S, 
 
 Yet in her splendid strength, her eyes, 
 There lay the lightning of the skies. 
 
 A pent-up soul that sometimes grew 
 Impatient; why, she hardly knew. 
 
 JoaquhL Miller. 
 
 The treasure sent 
 By God must not be idly spent. 
 
 Bayard Taylor, 
 
 118 
 
June 1, 
 
 June 2, 
 
 June S, 
 
 119 
 
=■ — — — June Jf, " — 
 
 A full, rich nature, free to trust, 
 Truthful and almost sternly just, 
 Impulsive, earnest, prompt to act, 
 And make her generous thought a fact, 
 Keeping with many a light disguise 
 The secret of self-sacrifice. 
 
 7. G. Whittier. 
 
 June 5, 
 
 Yes, there's a luck in most things, and in none 
 More than in being born at the right time ; 
 
 It boots not what the labor to be done, 
 
 Or feats of arms, or art, or building rhyme. 
 
 Not that the heavens the little can make great. 
 But many a man has lived an age too late. 
 
 R. H, Stoddard. 
 
 --—- — "^ June 6, — — 
 
 Tittle birds sit on the telegraph-wires, 
 
 And chitter, and flitter, and fold their wings ; 
 
 Little things light on the lines of our lives, — 
 Hopes, and joys, and acts of to-day; 
 
 And we think for these the Lord contrives, 
 Nor catch what the hidden lightnings say. 
 
 Yet from end to end His meaning arrives, 
 And His word runs underneath all the way. 
 
 Mrs. A, D. r. IVhUney. 
 
 120 
 
June 4- 
 
 June 5. 
 
 June 6. 
 
 121 
 
— June 7. ^ 
 
 He has a smile or kindly speech 
 
 Alike for rich and poor. 
 
 His mission is to help and bless. 
 
 J. T. Trowbridge. 
 
 And evermore beside him on his way 
 
 The miseen Christ shall move, 
 That he may lean upon his arm and say, 
 
 " Dost thou, dear Lord, approve ? " 
 
 H, IV, Longfellow, 
 
 June 8. — 
 
 Around his lips the subtle life that plays 
 Steals quaintly forth in many a jesting phrase ; 
 A lightsome nature, not so hard to chafe. 
 Pleasant when pleased ; rough-handled not so safe. 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 
 With the joy of a lowly heart's content, 
 I can feel my glad eyes glisten. 
 
 Lucy L arc o 711. 
 
 — June 9, 
 
 Beauty chased he everywhere, 
 In flame, in storm, in clouds of air. 
 He heard a voice none else could hear 
 From centred and from errant sphere. 
 He thought it happier to be dead, 
 To die for Beauty, than live for bread. 
 
 7?. JV. Evterson. 
 
 122 
 
June 7. 
 
 June 8. 
 
 June 9. 
 
 123 
 
June 10, 
 
 Her air, her smile, her motions, told 
 Of womanly completeness ; 
 
 A music as of household songs 
 Was in her voice of sweetness. 
 
 Not beautiful in curve and line, 
 But something more and better, 
 
 The secret charm eluding art, 
 Its spirit, not its letter. 
 
 y. G. WhUtier. 
 
 June 11, 
 
 By studying my lady's eyes 
 
 I Ve grown so learned day by day, 
 So Machiavelian in this wise 
 
 That when I send her flowers I say : 
 " Be not triumphant, little flower, 
 
 When on her haughty heart you lie, 
 But modestly enjoy your hour : 
 
 She '11 weary of you by and by." 
 
 T. B. Aldrich. 
 
 June 12, 
 
 He sang thy praise, O "June " ! and well mayst 
 
 thou 
 Bring all thy beauty to his coming now. 
 Well mayst thou give the welcome of a queen 
 To this calm guest, who, silent and serene. 
 Comes in "unfaltering trust" sustained, content 
 To make my couch yet more magnificent. 
 
 Mrs. Z. B. Gicstafson. 
 
 124 
 
June 10, 
 
 June 11, 
 
 June 12. 
 
 125 
 
June IS, 
 
 Whom I crown with love is royal ; 
 
 Matters not her blood or birth ; 
 She is queen, and I am loyal 
 
 To the noblest of the earth. 
 
 Neither place, nor wealth, nor title, 
 Lacks the man my friendship owns ; 
 
 His distinction, true and vital. 
 
 Shines supreme o'er crowns and thrones. 
 
 J. G. Holland. 
 
 — June IJf, 
 
 Each human heart must bear alone its cross ! 
 
 No star shines brighter than the kingly man. 
 Who nobly earns whatever crown he wears. 
 Who grandly conquers, or as grandly dies ; 
 And the white banner of his manhood bears, 
 Through all the years uplifted to the skies ! 
 
 Mrs. J.C. R. Dorr. 
 
 June 15. 
 
 No better parentage have you, — 
 One is our Father, one our Friend ; 
 
 The same inheritance awaits 
 
 Our claiming, at the journey's end. 
 
 I>ife may to you bring every good. 
 
 Which from a Father's hand can fall ; 
 
 But if true lips have said to me, 
 " I love you," I have known it all ! 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 126 
 
June IS, 
 
 June H, 
 
 June 15, 
 
 127 
 
June 16, 
 
 The heights by great men reached and kept 
 Were not attained by sudden flight, 
 
 But they, while their companions slept, 
 Were toiling upward in the night. 
 
 Standing on what too long we bore 
 
 With shoulders bent and downcast eyes. 
 
 We may discern — unseen before, 
 A path to higher destinies. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 June 17. 
 
 A beauty that bewilders like a spell 
 
 Reigns in thine eye's clear hazel, and thy brow. 
 
 So pure in veined transparency, doth tell 
 
 How spiritually beautiful art thou, — 
 
 A temple where angelic love might dwell. 
 
 N. P. Willis. 
 
 For his gentleness he loved him. 
 
 And the magic of his singing. 
 
 H. W, Longfellow. 
 
 June 18. — 
 
 Think not that he is cold 
 
 Who runneth not your proffered hand to touch : 
 On feeling's heights 'tis wise the step to hold 
 
 From trembling overmuch ; 
 And though its household sweets 
 
 Affection may through daily channels give, 
 The heart is chary, and ecstatic beats 
 
 Once only while we live. 
 
 Alice Cary. 
 
 128 
 
June 16, 
 
 June 17. 
 
 June 18. 
 
 129 
 
June 19. 
 
 Longing is God's fresh heavenward will, 
 
 With our poor earthward striving; 
 We quench it that we may be still 
 
 Content with merely living ; 
 But would we learn that heart's full scope 
 
 Which we are hourly wronging, 
 Our lives must climb from hope to hope, 
 
 And realize our longing. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 June 20. .^.^-^ 
 
 I wonder what thy life will be. 
 Thou dear, and charming child. 
 
 Rude and rough and sad perhaps ; 
 
 Anxious and full of toil ; 
 But I think no sorrow or hardship 
 
 Thine inner peace can spoil. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxier. 
 
 - - June 21. ^ — 
 
 And yet for thee why breathe a prayer 1 
 I deem thy fate is given in trust 
 
 To seraphs, who by daily care 
 
 Would prove that Heaven is not unjust. 
 
 Mrs. M. G. Brooks. 
 
 Souls themselves sustaining 
 Have still a friend remaining. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 130 
 
June 19, 
 
 June 20, 
 
 June 21, 
 
 131 
 
June 22. 
 
 How beautiful she was ! Why, she 
 
 Was inspiration. She was born 
 
 To walk God's summer-hills at morn, 
 
 Nor waste her by a wood-dark sea. 
 
 What wonder, then, her souFs white wings 
 
 Beat at the bars, like living things ? 
 
 Joaquin Miller 
 
 ■ June 28. 
 
 The Summer comes and the Summer goes ; 
 Wild flowers are fringing the dusty lanes, 
 The swallows go darting through fragrant rains, 
 
 Then all of a sudden — it snows. 
 
 Dear heart, our lives so happily flow. 
 So lightly we heed the flying hours, 
 We only know Winter is gone — by the flowers, 
 
 We only know Winter is come — by the snow. 
 
 T. B. Aldrich 
 
 June 2 If.. 
 
 What if the days are dreary ? 
 
 What if the desert glows 
 Beneath life's bitter sun-beat } 
 
 What if the wild wind blows 
 Out of the North-Land stormy ? 
 
 What if Earth wears no smile ? 
 A gate will open outward 
 
 In such a little while ! 
 
 E, L. Beers. 
 132 
 
June 22. 
 
 June 28. 
 
 June 2^. 
 
 133 
 
June 25, 
 
 From farthest distance high a clear voice rang, 
 " Ashes and dust shall blossom like the rose ! 
 
 Climb thou above the tempests," sweet it sang, 
 " Patience ! * On every height there lies repose.' " 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 Men hearkened to her words. 
 And wondered at their wisdom and obeyed. 
 And saw how beautiful the law of love 
 Can make the cares and toils of daily life. 
 
 W. C. Bryant. 
 
 June 26, 
 
 As torrents in summer, half dried in their channels. 
 Suddenly rise, though the sky is still cloudless. 
 For rain has been falling far off at their fountains ; 
 So hearts that are fainting grow full to o'erflowing, 
 And they that behold it marvel, and know not 
 That God at their fountains far off has been rain- 
 ing ! H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 June 27, 
 
 Cloudless for ever is her brow serene. 
 
 Speaking calm hope and trust within her, whence 
 
 Welleth a noiseless spring of patience. 
 
 That keepeth all her life so fresh, so green 
 
 And full of holiness, that every look, 
 
 The greatness of her woman's soul revealing. 
 
 Unto me bringeth blessing, and a feeling 
 
 As when I read in God^s own holy book. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 lU 
 
June 25, 
 
 June 26. 
 
 June 27, 
 
 135 
 
June 28. 
 
 Old friend, kind friend ! lightly down 
 Drop time's snow-flakes on thy crown ! 
 Never be thy shadow less, 
 Never fail thy cheerfulness ; 
 Care, that kills the cat, may plough 
 Wrinkles in the miser's brow, 
 Let the fiend pass ! — what can he 
 Find to do with such as thee ? 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 • June 29, 
 
 We cannot make bargains for blisses. 
 
 Nor catch them like fishes in nets ; 
 And sometimes the thing our life misses 
 
 Helps more than the thing which it gets. 
 For good lieth not in pursuing, 
 
 Nor gaining of great nor of small, 
 But just in the doing, and doing 
 
 As we would be done by, is all. 
 
 A lice Cary. 
 
 June SO. ■ 
 
 The glory of the human form 
 Is but a perishing thing, and Love will droop 
 When its brief grace hath faded ; but the mind 
 Perisheth not, and when the outward charm 
 Hath had its brief existence, it awakes. 
 And is the lovelier that it slept so long, — 
 Like wells that by the wasting of their flow 
 Have had their deeper fountains broken up. 
 
 JV. P. Willis. 
 
 136 
 
June 28. 
 
 June 29. 
 
 June SO. 
 
 137 
 
()u^->^ 
 
JULY. 
 
 There ! sweep these foolish leaves away, 
 I will not crush my brains to-day ! 
 Look ! are the southern curtains drawn ? 
 Fetch me a fan, and so begone ! 
 
 Who knows it not, — this dead recoil 
 Of weary fibres stretched with toil, — 
 The pulse that flutters faint and low 
 When Summer's seething breezes blow ? 
 
 O Nature, bare thy loving breast. 
 And give thy child one hour of rest, — 
 One little hour to lie unseen 
 Beneath thy scarf of leafy green ! 
 
 So, curtained by a singing pine, 
 
 Its murmuring voice shall blend with mine, 
 
 Till, lost in dreams, my faltering lay 
 
 In sweeter music dies away. 
 
 O. IV. Holmes, 
 
 139 
 
July 1, 
 
 On the wild rose tree 
 Many buds there be, 
 Yet each sunny hour 
 Hath one perfect flower. 
 
 Thou who wouldst be wise, 
 Open wide thine eyes, — 
 In each sunny hour 
 Pluck the one perfect flower. 
 
 R, W. Gilder. 
 
 July 2, 
 
 Oh, wherefore sigh for what is gone. 
 
 Or deem the future all a night ? 
 From darkness through the rosy dawn 
 
 The stars go singing into light. 
 
 And to the pilgrim lone and gray, 
 
 One thought shall come to cheer his breast : — 
 The evening sun but fades away 
 
 To find new morning in the west. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 July S. 
 
 A calm more awful is than storm. 
 Beware of calms in any form. 
 This life means action. 
 
 Joaquin Miller. 
 
 Her part 
 Had not been words but deeds. 
 
 Joaquin Miller. 
 
 140 
 
July Jf, 
 
 Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State ! 
 Sail on, O Union, strong and great ! 
 
 Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee. 
 Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 
 Our faith triumphant o'er our fears. 
 Are all with thee, are all with thee ! 
 
 H. IV. Longfellow. 
 We need not die to go to God. 
 
 Mrs. A . D. T. Whitney. 
 
 July 5. 
 
 If word of mine another's gloom has brightened. 
 Through my dumb lips the heaven-sent message 
 came ; 
 If hand of mine another's task has lightened, 
 It felt the guidance that it dares not claim. 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 I only know I cannot drift 
 Beyond His love and care. 
 
 y. G. Whittier, 
 
 July 6. 
 
 Hast thou unto thy higher self been true, 
 The godhead in thee ever kept in sight ? 
 
 The lower rightly using didst thou view 
 
 But as. a stepping-stone to some sublimer height ? 
 
 Joshtia Kendall. 
 
 Because you cannot pluck the flower, 
 
 You pass the sweet scent by; 
 Because you cannot have the stars, 
 
 You will not see the sky. 
 
 E. S. Phelps. 
 
 142 
 
143 
 
July 7. 
 
 She never was a child to us, 
 We never held her being's key ; 
 We could not teach her holy things : 
 She was Christ's self in purity. 
 
 r. B. Aldrirh. 
 
 July 8, 
 
 I have my cares. In every lot 
 
 We find their faces sad ; 
 But when I count those I have not 
 
 My very heart grows glad. 
 
 O God ! I thank Thee that I may 
 wSuch cares trust all to Thee, 
 
 Who watches all Thy hand has made 
 As tireless as eternity. 
 
 E. L. Beers, 
 
 July 9, 
 
 Sweet and thoughtful maiden, sitting by my side. 
 All the world's before you and the world is wide ; 
 Hearts are there for winning, hearts are there to 
 
 break, 
 Has your own, shy maiden, just begun to wake } 
 
 Is that rose of dawning glowing on your cheek 
 Telling us in blushes what you will not speak.? 
 Shy and tender maiden, I would fain forego 
 All the golden future, just to keep you so. 
 
 3Irs. L. C. Moidton. 
 
 144 
 
July 10, 
 
 " Man wants but little here below, 
 
 Nor wants that little long " 
 'Tis not with me exactly so, 
 
 But 'tis so in the song. 
 My wants are many, and if told 
 
 Would muster many a score ; 
 And were each wish a mint of gold, 
 
 I still should long for more. 
 
 J. Q. Adams. 
 
 July 11, 
 
 Nerved to a stern resolve, fulfil thy lot — 
 
 Reveal the secrets nature has unveiled thee ; 
 All higher gifts by toil intense are bought — 
 
 Has thy firm will in action ever failed thee ? 
 Only on distant summits fame is sought — 
 
 Sorrow and gloom thy nature has entailed thee, 
 But bright thy present joys, and brighter far 
 
 The hope that draws thee like a heavenly star. 
 
 y. G. Fercival. 
 
 — July 12. 
 
 I think of thee ; that eye of flame, 
 Those tresses, falling bright and free. 
 
 That brow, where "Beauty writes her name," 
 I think of thee — I think of thee. 
 
 G. D. Prentice. 
 
 A little bud of loveliness 
 That never should grow older. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 146 
 
July IS. 
 
 The bell hath tolled ! my birth-hour is upon me ! 
 The hour that made me child, has made me man, 
 And bids me put all childish things away. 
 
 A, C. Coxe. 
 His was a spirit that to all Thy poor 
 Was kind as slumber after pain. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 July 14, 
 
 She that is fair, though never vain or proud, 
 More fond of home than fashion's changing crowd ; 
 Whose taste refined even female friends admire, 
 Dressed not for show, but robed in neat attire ; 
 She who has learned, with mild forgiving breast, 
 To pardon frailties, hidden or confessed ; 
 
 She wins our hearts, toward her our thoughts in- 
 cline, y. T. Fields. 
 — July 15, 
 
 Some scentless flowers stand straight and high, 
 
 With pride and haughtiness ; 
 But violets perfume land and sky, 
 
 Although they promise less. 
 Let me with all humility, 
 
 Do more than I profess. 
 
 y. F. Clarke. 
 
 148 
 
149 
 
— July 16* 
 
 I am not old — - though years have cast 
 
 Their shadows on my way ; 
 I am not old — though youth has passed 
 
 On rapid wings away. 
 For in my heart a fountain flows, 
 And round it pleasant thoughts repose ; 
 And sympathies and feelings high 
 Spring like the stars on evening's sky. 
 
 Park Benjamin. 
 
 — July 17. 
 
 Strange ! that one lightly whispered tone 
 
 Is far, far sweeter unto me. 
 Than all the sounds that kiss the earth. 
 
 Or breathe along the sea ; 
 But, lady, when thy voice I greet. 
 
 Not heavenly music seems so sweet. 
 
 (9. IV. Holmes. 
 
 July 18, 
 
 Maiden ! with the meek brown eyes. 
 In whose orbs a shadow lies 
 Like the dust in evening skies ! 
 
 Standing, with reluctant feet. 
 Where the brook and river meet, 
 Womanhood and childhood fleet ! 
 
 Gather, then, each flower that grows. 
 
 H, W. Longfellow. 
 
 150 
 
July 19. 
 
 She swept on her bewildering way, 
 
 By every pleasure kissed, — 
 Making a mirth of night and day; 
 A brook all sparkle and all spray. 
 
 Dancing itself to mist. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 :— July 20, 
 
 If to wish and to have were one, my dear. 
 
 You would be sitting now. 
 With not a care in your tender heart. 
 
 Not a wrinkle upon your brow. 
 
 Perhaps it will all come right at last. 
 
 It may be when all is done. 
 We shall be together in some good world. 
 
 Where to wish and to have are one. 
 
 R. H, Stoddard. 
 
 July 21, 
 
 What gifts God gave you ! Think of it ! 
 
 A form well fashioned, strong, and tall, 
 
 A face all manliness, and all 
 
 A woman loves. 
 
 Joaquin Miller. 
 
 Clustered in his boundless heart 
 Sang all the morning-stars of song. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 152 
 
-- — -- July 22. — 
 
 Far better than kingly fortunes, 
 
 Is the wealth that thou dost hold — 
 
 A nature perfectly balanced, 
 A beauty of heart untold. 
 
 Thou wilt open the door of patience, 
 When sorrow shall come and knock; 
 
 But to every evil, unworthy thing, 
 Wilt thou the gates fast lock. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 — July 28. 
 
 Oh, fair and stately maid, whose eyes 
 Were kindled in the upper skies, 
 
 At the same torch that lighted mine ; 
 For so I must interpret still 
 Thy sweet dominion o'er my will, 
 
 A sympathy divine, 
 
 R. W. Emerson. 
 
 Ah, let me blameless gaze upon 
 Features that seem at heart my own. 
 
 R. JV. Emerson. 
 
 — — -^ — July 2Jf. — 
 
 Lives of great men all remind us 
 We can make our lives sublime, 
 
 And, departing, leave behind us 
 Footprints on the sands of time; — 
 
 Footprints, that perhaps another 
 
 Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
 A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, 
 
 Seeing, shall take heart again. 
 
 H. IV. Lofigfellow, 
 
 154 
 
July 25. 
 
 Life grows better every day, 
 
 If we live in deed and truth ; 
 So I am not used to grieve 
 
 For the vanished joys of youth. 
 
 For though early hopes may die, 
 Early dreams be rudely crossed ; 
 
 Of the past we still can keep 
 
 Treasures more than we have lost. 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 July 26. 
 
 Better to stem with heart and hand 
 
 The roaring tide of life, than lie, 
 Unmindful, on its flowery strand, 
 
 Of God's occasions drifting by ! 
 Better with naked nerve to bear 
 The needles of this goading air, 
 Than in the lap of sensual ease, forego 
 The godlike power to do, the godlike aim to 
 
 know. 7' G' Whittier. 
 
 July 27, 
 
 All the world lies wide before you. 
 Where to choose the wrong or right; 
 
 And no future shall restore you 
 
 What you seize not now with might. 
 
 I>et each act be the sure token 
 
 Of the nobler life ahead : — 
 Let each thought in truth be spoken, 
 
 Though the utterance strike you dead. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 156 
 
July 28, 
 
 Great men are few and stand apart ; 
 And seem divinest when remote. 
 
 And when we meet them, face to face, 
 And hand to hand their greatness greet, 
 
 Our steps we willingly retrace, 
 And gather humbly at their feet. 
 With those who live upon their grace. 
 
 y. G. Holland. 
 
 July 29. 
 
 Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering 
 all things, 
 
 Fair was she and young, but alas ! . . . 
 
 Something there was in her life incomplete, imper- 
 fect, unfinished. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 By him the deepest rest is won 
 Who toils beneath the noonday sun. 
 Faithful until his work is done. 
 
 Phcebe Cary. 
 
 July SO. 
 
 Quick to perceive, in him no freedom rude 
 
 Reproved full confidence : friendship, the meat 
 
 His soul had starved without, with gratitude 
 
 Was taken. 
 
 Mrs. M. G. Brooks. 
 
 God keep thine heart from growing old 
 Now and for ever ! 
 
 it. L. Beers. 
 
 158 
 
July 28, 
 
 159 
 
~— =— July SI, — 
 
 Ask me not why I should love her : 
 Look upon those soul-full eyes ! 
 Look while mirth or feeling move her, 
 And see there how sweetly rise 
 Thoughts, gay and gentle, from a breast 
 Which is of innocence the nest, — 
 Which, though each joy were from it shred. 
 By truth would still be tenanted ! 
 
 C. F. Hoffjnan. 
 
 160 
 
IGl 
 
AUGUST. 
 
 All the long August afternoon, 
 
 The little drowsy stream 
 Whispers a melancholy tune, 
 As if it dreamed of June 
 
 And whispered in its dream. 
 
 The thistles show beyond the brook 
 Dust on their down and bloom, 
 
 And out of many a weed-grown nook 
 
 The aster-flowers look 
 
 With eyes of tender gloom. 
 
 The silent orchard aisles are sweet 
 
 With smell of ripening fruit. 
 Through the sere grass, in shy retreat. 
 Flutter, at coming feet, 
 
 The robins strange and mute. 
 
 There is no wind to stir the leaves. 
 
 The harsh leaves overhead ; 
 Only the querulous cricket grieves. 
 And shrilling locust weaves 
 
 A song of Summer dead. 
 
 JV. D. Howells. 
 
 163 
 
August 1. — 
 
 Thou would'st be loved ? then let thy heart 
 
 From its present pathway part not : 
 Being every' thing which now thou art, 
 
 Be nothing which thou art not. 
 So with the world thy gentle ways, 
 
 Thy grace, thy more than beauty, 
 Shall be an endless theme of praise, 
 
 And love — a simple duty. 
 
 E. A. Pde. 
 
 August 2. 
 
 As fair as flowers in her hair. 
 
 As sweet as flowers over-sweet. 
 
 As fair as wood-nymph, more than fair. 
 
 How human, yet how more than good. 
 
 ^ Joaquin Miller. 
 
 So standeth he 'mid men, supremely wise. 
 
 Strong and uplifted, yet aware of all 
 
 That Nature hides from common mortal eyes. 
 
 Mrs. R. T. Cooke. 
 
 August 3. 
 
 Dear little face, that lies in calm content 
 Within the gracious hollow that God made 
 
 In every human shoulder, where He meant 
 Some tired head for comfort should be laid ! 
 
 Most like a heavy-folded rose thou art. 
 In summer air reposing, warm and still. 
 
 Dream thy sweet dreams upon my quiet heart; 
 I watch thy slumber; naught shall do thee ill. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 164 
 
August 1, 
 
 Aitgiist 2, 
 
 August 
 
 165 
 
August If, 
 
 Men can be great when great occasions call : 
 In little duties women find their spheres, 
 The narrow cares that cluster round the hearth ; 
 But this dear woman wipes a woman's tears, 
 And wears the crown of womanhood for all. 
 
 R H. Stoddard. 
 
 August 5. 
 
 Ah ! let us hope that to our praise 
 
 Good God not only reckons 
 The moments when we tread his ways, 
 
 But when the spirit beckons, — 
 That some slight good is also wrought 
 
 Beyond self-satisfaction, 
 When we are simply good in thought, 
 
 Uowe'er we fail in action. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 August 6, 
 
 For out of her life goes a breath of bliss. 
 And a sunlike charm from her cheerful eye. 
 
 That the cloud and the loitering breeze would miss ; 
 A balm that refreshes the passer-by. 
 
 There are ends more worthy than happiness : 
 Who seeks it, is digging joy's grave, we know. 
 
 The blessed are they who but live to bless ; 
 She found out that mystery, long ago. 
 
 Lucy LarcoTit. 
 
 166 
 
August Jf, 
 
 August 5, 
 
 August 6. 
 
 167 
 
August 7. 
 
 Your heart is a music-box, dearest ! 
 
 With exquisite tunes at command, 
 Of melody sweetest and clearest. 
 
 If tried by a delicate hand ; 
 But its workmanship, love, is so fine. 
 
 At a single rude touch it would break ; 
 Then oh ! be the magic key mine. 
 
 Its fairy-like whispers to wake ! 
 
 Mrs. F. S. Osgood. 
 
 August 8, 
 
 I was born for rejoicing ; a " summer child " truly ; 
 And kindred I claim with each wild joyous 
 thing,— 
 The light frolic breeze, or the streamlet unruly, 
 Or a cloud at its play, or a bird on the wing. 
 
 Mrs. E. F. Ellet. 
 
 My heart is very gladsome ; 
 
 But there's a corner deep, 
 Where many a shadow nestles. 
 
 And future sorrows sleep. 
 
 Mrs. E. C. Jndson. 
 
 August 9, 
 
 Though the world smile on you blandly. 
 Let your friends be choice and few : 
 
 Choose your course, pursue it grandly. 
 And achieve what you pursue. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! 
 
 Let the dead Past bury its dead ! 
 Act, — act in the living Present ! 
 
 Heart within, and God overhead ! 
 
 H. IV. Longfellow. 
 
 168 
 
August 7. 
 
 August 8, 
 
 August 9. 
 
 169 
 
August 10. 
 
 And she has reached that lovely time, 
 
 The sweet poetic age, 
 When to the eye each floweret's leaf 
 
 Seems like a glowing page ; 
 For a beauty and a mystery 
 
 About the heart is thrown. 
 When childhood's merry laughter yields 
 
 To girlhood's softer tone. 
 
 Mrs.A.B. Welby. 
 
 August 11, 
 
 A wayward child, on whom hath smiled 
 
 The light of heavenly love ; 
 A pilgrim with a vision dim 
 
 Of something far above ; 
 
 I live for all who on me call. 
 
 And yet I live for one; 
 My song must be sweet to all I meet. 
 
 And yet I sing to none. 
 
 Mrs. y. W. Howe. 
 
 August 12, 
 
 I know not what the future hath 
 
 Of marvel or surprise, 
 Assured alone that life and death 
 
 His mercy underlies. 
 
 And if my heart and flesh are weak 
 
 To bear an untried pain. 
 The bruised reed He will not break. 
 
 But strengthen and sustain. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 170 
 
August 10. 
 
 August 11. 
 
 August 12. 
 
 171 
 
August IS. 
 
 P'aithfulness in the humblest part 
 
 Is better at last than proud success. 
 And patience and love in a chastened heart 
 
 Are pearls more precious than happiness; 
 And in that morning when she shall wake 
 
 To the springtime freshness of youth again, 
 All troubles will seem but a flying flake, 
 
 And lifelong sorrow, a breath on the pane. 
 
 y. T. Troivbridge- 
 
 August IJf., 
 
 What is excellent 
 
 As God lives is permanent ; 
 
 Hearts are dust, heart's loves remain ; 
 
 Heart's love will meet thee again. 
 
 Revere the Maker ; fetch thine eye 
 
 Up to his style, and manners of the sky. 
 
 R. W. E7nerson. 
 
 August 15, 
 
 Not every head can wear the crown. 
 
 That the hands of love bestow. 
 
 Phcebe Cary. 
 
 She cannot look down to her lover: her love like 
 
 her soul aspires ; 
 He must stand by her side, or above her, who 
 
 would kindle its holy fires. 
 
 Mrs. y. C- R. Dorr. 
 
 172 
 
August 13. 
 
 August H. 
 
 August 15, 
 
 173 
 
August 16, 
 
 Labor with what zeal we will, 
 Something still remains undone, 
 
 Something uncompleted still 
 Waits the rising of the sun. 
 
 Till at length the burden seems 
 
 Greater than our strength can bear, 
 
 Heavy as the weight of dreams. 
 Pressing on us everywhere. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 August 17. 
 
 Oh, she looked into my spirit, as the stars look in 
 
 the stream. 
 Or as azure eyes of angels calm the trouble of a 
 
 dream. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 Close as you will your eyes divine, 
 
 Still through their lids 1 feel them shine. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 August 18. 
 
 Serve and wait, for when beyond us 
 Lives float off to yonder shore, 
 
 Never word or loving service 
 Can W'C render evermore. 
 
 E.L. Beers. 
 
 When I meet a human face, 
 
 Lit for me with light divine, 
 I recall all loving eyes. 
 
 That have ever answ^ered mine. 
 
 Phoebe Gary. 
 174 
 
Aicgust 16, 
 
 August 17. 
 
 August 18. 
 
 175 
 
August 19. 
 
 Then cease your sighs, sir : 
 
 No man's a prize, sir, 
 In any woman's sight, just let me say, 
 
 Who's not too high, sir, 
 
 To sigh and die, sir. 
 For any woman's love, day after day. 
 
 Nora Perry. 
 
 August 20. 
 
 No soul can ever clearly see 
 Another's highest, noblest part; 
 
 Save through the sweet philosophy 
 And loving wisdom of the heart. 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 All skies are fair 
 
 To trusting hearts, when once their truth is tried. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 August 21. 
 
 Thine was the seed-time ; God alone 
 Beholds the end of what is sown; 
 Beyond our vision weak and dim. 
 The harvest-time is hid with Him. 
 
 Yet, unforgotten where it lies. 
 That seed of generous sacrifice, 
 Though seeming on the desert cast, 
 Shall rise with bloom and fruit at last. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 176 
 
August 19. 
 
 August 20. 
 
 August 21. 
 
 177 
 
August 22, 
 
 I take 
 My little gift of being clean from God, 
 Not haggling for a better, holding it 
 Good as was ever any in the world, 
 My days as good and full of miracle. 
 T pluck my nutriment from any bush. 
 Finding out poison as the first men did 
 By tasting and then suffering, if 1 must. 
 
 J. R. Lowell- 
 
 August 28. 
 
 From, the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial 
 
 ascended, — 
 Charity, meekness, love and hope, and forgiveness 
 
 and patience ! 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 One there is that looketh down to me 
 Less like a face than like a star, for when 
 With closed eyes, I would think what it is like, 
 I only can remember that it shines. 
 
 E. S. Phelps. 
 
 August 2 If, 
 
 . . . Looking back upon my past 
 Wronged with so many a wasted hour, 
 
 I think that I should fear to cast 
 My fortunes if I had the power. 
 
 And think that he is mainly wise. 
 Who takes what comes of good or ill. 
 
 Trusting that wnsdom underlies 
 
 And worketh in the end — His will. 
 
 Alice Cary. 
 
 178 " 
 
August 22, 
 
 August 23, 
 
 August 2Jf. 
 
 179 
 
August 25, 
 
 White with the starlight folded in its wings 
 And nestling timidly against your love, 
 
 At this soft time of hushed and glimmering things, 
 You call my soul a dove, a snowy dove. 
 
 Mrs. S, M. B. Piatt. 
 
 Help me to look behind, before. 
 To make my past and future form 
 
 A bow of promise, meeting o'er 
 The darkness of my day of storm. 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 August 26. — — 
 
 There lies 
 A talisman in intellect which yields 
 Celestial music, when the master hand 
 Touches it cunningly : and when the form 
 Witches the sense no more, and human love 
 Falters in its idolatry, this spell 
 Will hold its strength unbroken, and go on 
 Stealing anew the affections. 
 
 N. P. Willis. 
 
 — — August 27. 
 
 We launch our boat upon the sparkling sea, 
 
 We dip our rhythmic oars with song and cheer ; 
 
 Before our dancing prow the shadows flee. 
 Behind us fast the fair coasts disappear. 
 
 Flushed with our hope the unknown future gleams, 
 Freighted with blissful dreams our barque floats 
 
 And life a shining path of victory seems, [on. 
 
 Crowned with a golden peace when day is done. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 180 
 
August 25, 
 
 August 26, 
 
 August 27. 
 
 181 
 
August 28* 
 
 The dear God hears and pities all ; 
 
 He knoweth all our wants : 
 And what we blindly ask of him 
 
 His love withholds or grants. 
 
 And so I sometimes think our prayers 
 
 Might well be merged in one ; 
 And nest and perch and hearth and church 
 
 Repeat, " Thy will be done/' 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 August 29* 
 
 Fourscore, like twenty, has its tasks and toys ; 
 In earth's v/ide schoolhouse all are girls and boys. 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 
 For, still as comes the festal day, 
 In many a temple, far and near, 
 The words that all have longed to say, 
 
 The words that all are proud to hear. 
 Fall from his lips with conquering sway, 
 Or grave or gay. 
 
 William Winter. 
 
 — August SO, 
 
 The sun set, but set not his hope : 
 Stars rose ; his faith was earlier up : 
 Fixed on the enormous galaxy, 
 Deeper and older seemed his eye ; 
 And matched his sufferance sublime 
 The taciturnity of time. 
 His action won such reverence sweet 
 As hid all measure of the feat. 
 
 R, W. Einersoji. 
 182 
 
August 28. 
 
 August 29, 
 
 August 30, 
 
 J83 
 
August 81. 
 
 Diviner air 
 Of beauty, and a grace more free, 
 More soft and solemn depths I see 
 In every woman's face, since 
 He has called me fair. 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackson. 
 Souls vv^ho might flood the world with new delight 
 Keep sealed the deepest fountains of the heart. 
 
 T. B. Read, 
 
 384 
 
Aicgicst SI. 
 
 185 
 
J (^eM<^ ^^%<M^ 
 
SEPTEMBER. 
 
 Tranced in a liquid calm September lies, 
 
 Her bosom heaves with breathings soft and low; 
 
 The palpitating air in heart-warm stillness dies, 
 And brooding peace is over all below. 
 
 Elaine Goodale. 
 
 Oh what a glory does this world put on 
 For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth 
 Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks 
 On duties well performed, and days well spent ! 
 For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves, 
 Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings. 
 He shall so hear the solemn hymn that Death 
 Has lifted up for all, that he shall go 
 To his long resting-place without a tear. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 187 
 
Septemier 1. 
 
 With the love of a holier world than this 
 
 Her innocent heart seemed warm ; 
 While the glad yomig spirit looked out with bliss 
 
 From its shrine in her sylph-like form. 
 
 Her soul seemed spreading the scene to span 
 
 That opened before her view ; 
 And longing for power to look the plan 
 
 Of the universe fairly through. 
 
 H. F. Gould. 
 
 September 2, 
 
 No dreamer thou, but real all, — 
 
 Strong manhood crowning vigorous youth ; 
 Life made by duty epical 
 
 And rhythmic with the truth. 
 
 So shall that life the fruitage yield 
 
 Which trees of healing only give, 
 And green-leafed in the Eternal field 
 
 Of God, for ever live. 
 
 y. G. Whitiier. 
 
 September 3, 
 
 As the rivers farthest flowing, 
 
 In the highest hills have birth ; 
 As the banyan, broadest growing, 
 
 Oftenest bows its head to earth, — 
 So the noblest minds press onward. 
 
 Channels far of good to trace ; 
 So the largest hearts bend downward, 
 
 Circling all the human race. 
 
 Mrs. S. J. Hale. 
 
 188 
 
September i. 
 
 September 2, 
 
 September S, 
 
 189 
 
Septemher ^. 
 
 He who would gain 
 A fond, full heart — in love's soft surgery skilled, 
 Should seek it when 'tis sore ; allay its pain 
 With balm by pity prest : 'tis all his own so healed. 
 
 Mrs. M. G. Brooks. 
 
 For of all sad words of tongue or pen. 
 
 The saddest are these : *' It might have been ! " 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 September 5. 
 
 Sorely tried and sorely tempted, 
 From no agonies exempted. 
 In the penance of his trial, 
 And the discipline of pain ; 
 Often by illusions cheated. 
 Often baffled and defeated 
 In the tasks to be completed, 
 He, by toil and self-denial, 
 To the highest shall attain. 
 
 //". IV. Lojtgfellow. 
 
 September 6. 
 
 Oh, what a face was hers to brighten light. 
 
 And give back sunshine with an added glow, 
 To wile each moment with a fresh delight. 
 
 And part of memory's best contentment grow ! 
 Oh, how her voice, as with an inmate's right. 
 
 Into the strangest heart would welcome go. 
 And make it sweet and ready to become 
 
 Of white and gracious thoughts the chosen home. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 190 
 
September 4, 
 
 September 5. 
 
 September 0. 
 
 191 
 
September 7, 
 
 To thee was known 
 Alike the language of the fragile flower 
 And of the burning stars. God taught it thee. 
 
 And the young child who takes thee by the hand 
 Shall travel with a surer step to heaven. 
 
 Mrs. L. H. Sigourney. 
 
 No power can die that ever wrought for Truth. 
 
 J. /?. Lo^velL 
 
 September 8, 
 
 So passed her life, a long and blameless life, 
 And far and near her name was named with love 
 And reverence. Still she kept, as age came on, 
 Her stately presence ; still her eyes looked forth 
 From under their calm brows as brightly clear 
 As the transparent wells by which she sat 
 So oft in childhood. Still she kept her fair 
 Unwrinkled features, though her locks were white. 
 
 IV. C. Bryant. 
 
 September 9. 
 
 He could see naught but vanity in beauty. 
 And naught but weakness in a fond caress, 
 
 And pitied men whose views of Christian duty 
 Allowed indulgence in such foolishness. 
 
 Yet there were love and tenderness within him. 
 
 y. G. Hollafid. 
 
 192 
 
September 7. 
 
 September 8, 
 
 September 9. 
 
 193 
 
September 10, 
 
 What though our eyes with tears be wet ? 
 The sunrise never failed us yet. 
 The blush of dawn may yet restore 
 Our light and hope and joy once more. 
 Sad soul, take comfort, nor forget 
 That sunrise never failed us yet I 
 
 Airs. Cell a Thaxter. 
 
 September 11. 
 
 Love took her by the willing hand, — 
 And oft she kissed the smiling boy ; 
 
 He led her through his native land, 
 The innocent fields of joy. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 And when in merry laughter 
 
 Her sweet clear voice was heard, 
 
 It welled from out her happy heart 
 Like carol of a bird. 
 
 Mrs. S. 7. Hale. 
 
 — - — September 12. 
 
 Nay, lady, one frown is enough 
 
 In a life as soon over as this — 
 And though minutes seem long in a huff, 
 
 They're minutes 'tis pity to miss ! 
 The smiles you imprison so lightly 
 
 Are reckoned, like days in eclipse ; 
 And though you may smile again brightly, 
 
 You've lost so much light from your lips ! 
 
 Pray, lady, smile ! n. P. IV mis. 
 
 194 
 
September 10. 
 
 September 11. 
 
 September 12. 
 
 195 
 
September 13. 
 
 Though his fair locks lie all unshorn and bare 
 To the bold toying of the mountain wind, 
 A conscious glory haunts the o'ershadovving air, 
 And waits with glittering coil his brows to bind, 
 While his proud temples bend superbly down 
 As if they felt e'en now the burden of a crown. 
 
 Mrs. S. H. IVhiiman. 
 
 ——-^ September IJf, 
 
 Her pride was the unconscious guise 
 
 Which to the pure is given : 
 Her gentle prudence broke to sighs, 
 And smiles were native to her eyes 
 
 As are the stars to heaven. 
 
 T, B, Read. 
 
 A nameless longing filled her breast, — 
 A wish that she hardly dared to own. 
 For something better than she had known. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 September 15. 
 
 A youth was there of quiet ways, 
 A student of old books and days ; 
 With many a social virtue graced 
 And yet a friend of solitude ; 
 A man of such a genial mood 
 The heart of all things he embraced, 
 And yet of such fastidious taste, 
 He never found the best too good. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 196 
 
September IS, 
 
 Septemhei' 14-. 
 
 September 15. 
 
 197 
 
September 16, 
 
 I ask not wealth, but power to take 
 And use the thmgs I have aright ; 
 
 Not years, but wisdom that shall make 
 My life a profit and delight. 
 
 I ask not, that for me, the plan 
 Of good and ill be set aside ; 
 
 But that the common lot of man 
 Be nobly borne and glorified. 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 September 17. 
 
 I have looked on a face that has looked in my heart, 
 As deep as the moon ever fathoms a wave ; 
 
 As uncomprehended it came to depart. 
 
 While a sense of its glory was all that it gave. 
 
 But her light in my heart, which no time can 
 eclipse 
 
 Seems to brighten and smile in the joy it confers ; 
 And a voice which is shed from aerial lips 
 
 Breathes a music I know which can only be hers ! 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 September 18. 
 
 More true and sure 
 Each man's heart seems, more firm for right ; 
 Each man I hold more strong in fight, 
 Since he stands ever in my sight, 
 
 So brave, so pure. 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jackson, 
 
 198 
 
September 16, 
 
 September 17, 
 
 September 18. 
 
 109 
 
Septemher 19, 
 
 He kept his honesty and truth, 
 
 His independent tongue and pen, 
 And moved, in manhood as in youth, 
 
 Pride of his fellow-men. 
 
 A kind, true heart, a spirit high. 
 
 That could not fear and would not bow. 
 
 Were written in his manly eye 
 And on his manly brow. 
 
 Fitz-Greene Halleck. 
 
 — September 20. 
 
 For the Power to whom we bow 
 Has given its pledge that, if not now, 
 They of pure and steadfast mind, 
 By faith exalted, truth refined, 
 Shall hear all music loud and clear. 
 Whose first notes they ventured here. 
 
 Countess M. F. cTOssoli. 
 
 Septemher 21. 
 
 A most spiritual air 
 Her whole form ijivested, 
 As if God did love her. 
 And his smile still rested 
 On her white robe and flesh, 
 So innocent and fresh — 
 Touching where'er it fell 
 With a glory visible. 
 
 S. S. Jacobs. 
 200 
 
September 19, 
 
 September 20, 
 
 September 21. 
 
 •2ui 
 
■ — September 22, 
 
 A mien that neither seeks nor shuns 
 
 The homage scattered in her way ; 
 A love that hath few favored ones, 
 
 And yet for all can work and pray ; 
 An eye like to a mystic book 
 
 Of lays that bard or prophet sings, 
 Which keepethfor the holiest look 
 
 Of holiest love, its deepest things. 
 
 Mrs. J. W. Howe. 
 
 September 28, 
 
 Small need hast thou of words of praise from me. 
 Thou knowest my heart, dear friend, and well canst 
 
 guess 
 That, even though silent, I have not the less 
 Rejoiced to see thy actual life agree 
 With the large future which I shaped for thee. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 .=»-™=.-™, September 24-- 
 
 You walked the sunny side of fate ; 
 
 The wise world smiles and calls you great ; 
 
 The golden fruitage of success 
 
 Drops at your feet in plenteousness : 
 
 And you have blessings manifold, — 
 
 Renown and power, and friends and gold. 
 
 Mrs. E. A. Allen. 
 
 202 
 
September 22. 
 
 September 23. 
 
 Septe^nber 2^. 
 
 203 
 
September 25, 
 
 Her plain, simple name, 
 
 Meant nothing at all until after you 
 
 Had seen her face, her presence, and then 
 
 From that day forth it had form, and meant 
 
 The fairest thing under the firmament. 
 
 Joaquin Miller. 
 
 September 26, 
 
 Still has my chief work been 
 Rather to make me clean. 
 As he must be that will 
 Go forth 'mid thronging men 
 And stretch his forward ken 
 Onward and upward stilL 
 
 Robert Lowell. 
 
 September 27, 
 
 So all who walk steep ways, in grief and night, 
 
 Where every step is full of toil and pain. 
 May see when they have gained the sharpest height, 
 
 It has not been in vain, 
 Since they have left behind the noise and heat ; 
 
 And, though their eyes drop tears, their sight is 
 clear : 
 The air is purer, and the breeze is sweet. 
 
 And the blue heaven more near. 
 
 Mrs. E. A. Allen. 
 
 204 
 
Septemher 25, 
 
 Septe'inher 26. 
 
 September 27, 
 
 205 
 
September 28, 
 
 Hating the crowd, where we gregarious men 
 Lead lonely lives, I love society. 
 Nor seldom find the best with simple souls 
 Unswerved by culture from their native bent, 
 The ground we meet on being primal man. 
 And nearer the deep bases of our lives. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 September 29, 
 
 'Tis not the little milk-white hands 
 That grace whatever work they do ; 
 
 'Tis not the braided silken bands 
 That shade the eyes of tender blue ; 
 
 And not the voice so low and sweet 
 
 That holds me captive to her feet. 
 
 She was not wooed, nor was I won. 
 What draws the dew-drop to the sun ? 
 
 Alice Cary. 
 
 September SO, 
 
 Ye open the eastern windows, 
 
 That look towards the sun. 
 Where thoughts are singing swallows, 
 
 And the brooks of morning run. 
 
 In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine, 
 In your thoughts the brooklet's flow. 
 
 But in mine is the wind of Autumn 
 And the first fall of the snow. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 206 
 
September 28. 
 
 September 29. 
 
 September SO. 
 
 207 
 
(fl M- ■<f(^^^<jy 
 
OCTOBER. 
 
 Bending above the spicy woods which blaze, 
 Arch skies so blue they flash, and hold the sun 
 Immeasurably far ; the waters run 
 Too slow, so freighted are the river-ways 
 With gold of elms and birches from the maze 
 Of forests. Chestnuts, clicking one by one. 
 Escape from satin burs ; her fringes done, 
 The gentian spreads them out in sunny days, 
 And, like late revellers at dawn, the chance 
 Of one sweet, mad, last hour, all things assail. 
 And conquering, flush and spin ; while to enhance 
 The spell, by sunset door, wrapped in a veil 
 Of red and purple mists, the summer, pale. 
 Steals back alone for one more song and dance. 
 
 Mrs, H. H. Jackson. 
 
 209 
 
October 1. 
 
 The bee knows honey, 
 
 And the blossoms light, 
 Day the dawning. 
 
 Stars the night ; 
 The slow, glad river 
 
 Knows its sea ; 
 Is it true, Love, 
 
 I know not thee ? 
 
 Mrs. R. T. Cooke. 
 
 October 2, 
 
 'Tis nobler far 
 To bear defeat than shine a star 
 In circled seat of rounded fame. 
 I reach my hand in trust to you. 
 
 Joaquin Miller. 
 
 Other work for man is none 
 
 But to do the Master's will ; 
 Wet with rain, or parched with sun, 
 
 Meekly I Thy garden till. 
 
 Robert Lowell. 
 
 October S. 
 
 Though tangled hard life's knot may be. 
 
 And wearily we rue it, 
 The silent touch of Father Time 
 Some day will sure undo it. 
 Then, darling, wait ; 
 Nothing is late. 
 
 Mrs. M. M. Dodge. 
 
 210 
 
October 1, 
 
 October 2. 
 
 October S. 
 
 211 
 
October J/.. 
 
 I find sweet peace in depths of autumn woods, 
 Where grow the ragged ferns and roughened 
 moss ; 
 The naked, silent trees have taught me this, — 
 The loss of beauty is not always loss ! 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Stoddard. 
 
 October 5. ■ 
 
 Think not, when the wailing winds of autumn 
 Drive the shivering leaflets from the tree, 
 
 Think not all is over : spring returneth. 
 Buds and leaves and blossoms thou shalt see. 
 
 Weeping for a night alone endureth, 
 God at last shall bring a morning hour ; 
 
 In the frozen buds of every winter 
 Sleep the blossoms of a future flower. 
 
 Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 
 
 October 6, 
 
 Toiling early, and toiling late. 
 
 Though her name was never heard. 
 
 To the least of her Saviour's little ones 
 She meekly ministered. 
 
 Such a perfect life as hers, again, 
 
 In the world we may not see ; 
 For her heart was full of love, and her hands 
 
 Were full of charity. 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 212 
 
October 4- 
 
 October 5. 
 
 October 6. 
 
 213 
 
October 7. 
 
 Jimmy and I are fellows for play ! 
 
 Never tired of it, rain or shine. 
 Jimmy was six the last birthday, 
 
 While I was only — sixty-nine ! 
 
 And sadly the question bothers me, 
 As I stop in my play to look at him — 
 
 What will the Twentieth Century be, 
 
 If the Nineteenth's youngsters are all like Jim ? 
 
 K. P. Osgood. 
 
 October 8. 
 
 Life is a leaf of paper white 
 Whereon each one of us may write 
 His word or two, and then comes night. 
 
 Greatly begin ! though thou have time 
 But for a line, be that sublime, — 
 Not failure, but low aim, is crime. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 October 9. — 
 
 She moved with recognition sweet. 
 
 She bowed with courtesy calm and kind. 
 
 As graceful as the waving wheat 
 That bends before the summer wind. 
 
 I heard her rich tones sounding through 
 
 The many voices like a strain 
 Of lofty music, strong and true, 
 
 And perfect joy was mine again. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 214 
 
October 7. 
 
 October 8. 
 
 October 9. 
 
 215 
 
October 10. 
 
 We should obey ourselves alone, 
 
 Nor ask what paths have others trod ; 
 
 God wants no sign to know His own, 
 Nor they to know their God. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 And Thou, O Lord ! by whom are seen 
 
 Thy creatures as they be, 
 Forgive me if too close I lean 
 
 My human heart on Thee ! 
 
 y. G. Whiitier. 
 
 October 11. 
 
 Sweet World, if you will hear me now : 
 
 I may not own a sounding lyre. 
 And wear my name upon my brow 
 
 Like some great jewel full of fire. 
 
 But let me, singing, sit apart, 
 
 In tender quiet with a few. 
 And keep my fame upon my heart, 
 
 A little blush-rose wet with dew. 
 
 Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt. 
 
 ■ ■ October 12. - - - 
 
 She is for a saint too human, 
 Yet too saintly for a woman ; 
 
 Something childish in her face 
 Blended with maturer grace. 
 
 Shows a nature pure and good, 
 Perfected by motherhood. 
 
 Phozhe Cary. 
 
 216 
 
October 10. 
 
 October 11, 
 
 October 12. 
 
 217 
 
October IS. 
 
 She watched the homeless birds, the slow, sad 
 
 spring, 
 The barren fields, the shivering, naked trees: 
 " Thus God has dealt with me, his child," she said — 
 "I wait my spring-time and am cold like these. 
 To them will come the fulness of their time ; 
 Their spring, though late, will make the.meadows fair ; 
 Shall I, who wait like them, like them be blessed ? 
 I am His own — doth not my Father care? " 
 
 Mrs. L. C. Motdto?u 
 
 October IJf, 
 
 Something remains for us to do or dare ; 
 Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear ; 
 
 For age is opportunity no less 
 Than youth itself, though in another dress. 
 And as the evening twilight fades away. 
 The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. 
 
 H. W. Loitgfelloiv. 
 
 October 15. 
 
 He keepeth count. We come, we go, 
 
 We speculate, toil, and falter ; 
 But the measure to each of weal or woe, 
 God only can give or alter. 
 He sendeth light. 
 He sendeth night, 
 And change goes on for ever. 
 
 Mrs. M. M. Dodge. 
 
 218 
 
October IS. 
 
 October IJ^, 
 
 October 15. 
 
 219 
 
October 16. 
 
 Thoughts that great hearts once broke for, we 
 Breathe cheaply in the common air ; 
 
 The dust we trample heedlessly 
 
 Throbbed once in saints and heroes rare, 
 
 Who perished, opening for their race 
 
 New pathways to the commonplace. 
 
 y. R. Loivell. 
 
 October 17. 
 
 A double life is this of ours ; 
 
 A twofold form wherein we dwell : 
 And heaven itself is not so strange 
 
 Nor half so far as teachers tell. 
 
 With weary feet we daily tread 
 The circle of a self-same round ; 
 
 Yet the strong soul may not be held 
 A prisoner in the petty bound. 
 
 Mrs. A. D. T, Whitney. 
 
 October 18, 
 
 No endeavor is in vain ; 
 Its reward is in the doing, 
 And the rapture of pursuing 
 Is the prize the vanquished gain. 
 
 H. W. Long-fellow. 
 Nay, haste not like the hired slave ; 
 Take life's good as you go, my friend. 
 
 yoaqiihi Miller. 
 
 220 
 
October 16. 
 
 October 17. 
 
 October 18. 
 
 221 
 
October 19. 
 
 Such grace to such symmetry wed ! 
 Quick ! — notice the droop of her shoulder, 
 And the exquisite curve of her arm ; 
 None ever will tell, or has told her 
 How perfect she is : — There's the charm ! 
 Such knowledge brings nothing but harm. 
 
 Mrs. M. J. Preston. 
 
 . October 20, 
 
 Ah, well ! for us all some sweet hope lies 
 Deeply buried from human eyes ; 
 
 And in the hereafter angels may 
 Roll the stone from its grave away. 
 
 y, G. Whittier. 
 
 Take cheer, weak heart, remember and be glad, 
 For some one loved thee. 
 
 Mrs. L. C. Moult on. 
 
 October 21, 
 
 Rock in the wind, little nest ; 
 When you are full, life is best ; 
 Soon enough wings will be grown, 
 Flutter, and leave you alone. 
 
 Rock in the wind, little nest ; 
 Say, what are storms to the blest ? 
 Though you should tremble and fall, 
 God cares for sparrows and all ! 
 
 M. N. Prescoit. 
 
 222 
 
October 19. 
 
 October 20. 
 
 October 21, 
 
 223 
 
October 22, 
 
 Hand in hand with angels 
 
 Walking every day; — 
 How the chain may lengthen, 
 
 None of us can say. 
 But we know it reaches 
 
 From earth's lowliest one, 
 To the shining seraph, 
 
 Throned beyond the sun, 
 
 Lucy Larcoin. 
 
 October 23. 
 
 I am she 
 Whom the gods love. Tranquillity ; 
 He wins me late, but keeps me long, 
 Who, dowered with every gift of passion. 
 In that fierce flame can forge and fashion 
 Of sin and self the anchor strong ; 
 To him T come, not lightly wooed 
 But won by silent fortitude. 
 
 % R. Lowell. 
 
 October 2 If, 
 
 I did not see her radiant face, 
 
 Bright as spring light when winter dies, 
 But warm across the crowded space 
 
 I felt the gaze of noble eyes ; 
 And in that glorious look, at last, 
 
 I seemed like one with sins forgiven, 
 With all life's pain and sorrow passed. 
 
 Entering the open gates of heaven ! 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 224 
 
October 22. 
 
 October 23. 
 
 October 2^. 
 
 2^5 
 
October 25. 
 
 Do thy duty ; that is best ; 
 Leave unto thy Lord the rest. 
 
 Whatsoever thing thou doest 
 To the least of mine and lowest, 
 That thou doest unto me. 
 
 //. IV . LongfcUoiv. 
 
 October 26. 
 
 For unto man the angel guest 
 
 Still comes through gates of suffering best ; 
 
 And most our heavenly Father cares 
 
 For whom He smites, not whom He spares. 
 
 So to His chastening meekly bow, 
 
 Thou art of His beloved now ! 
 
 Phcebe Cary. 
 
 — — ■ October 27. — 
 
 I am the one rich thing that morn 
 Leaves for the ardent noon to win ; 
 
 Grasp me not, I have a thorn, 
 
 But bend and take my fragrance in. 
 
 Petal on petal opening wide, 
 
 My being into beauty flows, — 
 Hundred-leaved and damask-dyed, — • 
 
 Yet nothing, nothing but a rose ! 
 
 Mrs. H. P. Spojford. 
 
 ^. .__J 
 
 226 
 
October 25, 
 
 October 26, 
 
 October 27. 
 
 227 
 
October 28. 
 
 Stranger and pilgrim ! — from that day 
 
 Of meeting, first and last, 
 Wherever Duty's pathway lay 
 
 His reverent steps have passed. 
 
 He walked the dark world, in the mild, 
 Still guidance of the Light ; 
 
 In tearful tenderness a child, 
 A strong man in the right. 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 October 29. 
 
 For ah, another year, another year, 
 I'll set my life in richer, stronger soil. 
 
 And prune the weeds away that creep too near, 
 And watch and tend with never-ceasing toil — 
 
 Another year, ah, yes, another year. Nora Perry. 
 
 The tidal wave of deeper souls 
 Into our inmost being rolls, 
 
 And lifts us unawares 
 
 Out of all meaner cares. 
 
 H. JV. Long-felloiv. 
 
 October SO. 
 
 So brief the time to smile, - 
 
 Why darken we the air 
 With frowns and tears, the while 
 
 We nurse despair } 
 
 Stand in the sunshine sweet 
 
 And treasure every ray, 
 Nor seek with stubborn feet 
 
 The darksome way. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 228 
 
October 28. 
 
 October 29. 
 
 October SO, 
 
 229 
 
October SI. 
 
 The day is ended. Ere I sink to sleep 
 My weary spirit seeks repose in Thine : 
 
 Father ! forgive my trespasses, and keep 
 This little life of mine. 
 
 At peace with all the world, dear Lord, and Thee, 
 I^ o fears my soul's unwavering faith can shake ; 
 
 Airs well ! whichever side the grave for me 
 The morning light may break ! 
 
 H. McE. Kimball. 
 
 230 
 
October SI. 
 
^^r^C^ 
 
NOVEMBER. 
 
 ♦ 
 
 The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the 
 
 year, 
 Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows 
 
 brown and sere. 
 Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn 
 
 leaves lie dead ; 
 They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's 
 
 tread. 
 The robin and the wren are flown, and from the 
 
 shrubs the jay. 
 And from the wood-top calls the crow, through all 
 
 the gloomy day. 
 
 Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that 
 lately sprang and stood 
 
 In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sister- 
 hood ? 
 
 Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race 
 of flowers 
 
 Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and 
 good of ours. 
 
 The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold 
 November rain 
 
 Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones 
 
 again. ^' C. Bryant, 
 
 233 
 
November 1, 
 
 Had she beauty ? Well, not what they call so ; 
 
 You may find a thousand as fair ; 
 And yet there^s her face in my memory 
 
 With no special claim to be there. 
 
 'Tis a face that can never grow older, 
 
 That never can part with its gleam, 
 'Tis a gracious possession for ever, 
 
 For is it not all a dream ? y, R. Lowell 
 
 November 2. 
 
 Life is too short to waste 
 
 In critic peep or cynic bark, 
 Quarrel or reprimand : 
 
 'Twill soon be dark ; 
 Up ! mind thine own aim, and 
 
 God speed the mark ! 
 
 R. W, Emerson. 
 
 November S. 
 
 Patience, and abnegation of self, and devotion to 
 
 others, 
 This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had 
 
 taught her. H. IV. Longfellow. 
 
 His ear was filled, his great heart satisfied. 
 With the sweet greetings that came down the tide 
 To bless and bid him God speed who had cared. 
 With deep, unselfish love, how nations fared. 
 
 Mrs. Z. B. Gustafson. 
 
 234 
 
November 1. 
 
 Novemher 2, 
 
 Novemhei' S, 
 
 235 
 
— N^ovember J/,, 
 
 O Thou whose care is over all, 
 Who heedest even the sparrow's fall, 
 Keep in the little maiden's breast 
 The pity which is now its guest ! 
 Let not her cultured years make less 
 The childhood charm of tenderness, 
 But let her feel as well as know, 
 Nor harder witli her polish grow. 
 
 y. G. Whitiier. 
 
 November 5, 
 
 I know not and will never pry, 
 
 But trust our human heart for all ; 
 
 Wonders that from the seeker fly. 
 Into an open sense may fall. 
 
 Hide in thine own soul, and surprise 
 The password of the unwary elves ; 
 
 Seek it, thou canst not bribe their spies ; 
 Unsought, they whisper it themselves. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 JSTovember 6. 
 
 I would be fire and fragrance, light and air, 
 All gracious things that serve thee at thy need ; 
 
 Music, to lift thy heart above all care, — 
 
 The wise and charming book that thou dost read. 
 
 There is no power that cheers and blesses thee 
 
 But I do envy it, beneath the sun ! 
 Thy health, thy rest, thy refuge I would be ; 
 
 Thy heaven on earth, thine every good in one. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 236 
 
November Jf. 
 
 November 5, 
 
 November 6. 
 
 237 
 
November 7. 
 
 November woods are bare and still ; 
 November days are bright and good ; 
 Life's noon burns up life's morning chill ; 
 Life's night rests feet which long have stood ; 
 Some warm soft bed in field or wood, 
 The mother will not fail to keep, 
 Where we can " lay us down to sleep." 
 
 Mrs. H. H. Jacksoft, 
 
 Noveniber 8. 
 
 My life is cold, and dark, and dreary ; 
 It rains and the wind is never weary ; 
 
 Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; 
 Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; 
 Thy fate is the common fate of all, 
 Into each life some rain must fall. 
 Some days must be dark and dreary. 
 
 H, IV. Longfellow. 
 
 — — — November 9. 
 
 If the world's a vale of tears, 
 
 Smile, till rainbows span it ! 
 Breathe the love that life endears, 
 
 Clear of clouds to fan it. 
 Of your gladness lend a gleam 
 
 Unto souls that shiver ; 
 Show them how dark Sorrow's stream 
 
 Blends with Hope's bright river. 
 
 Lucy Larcoin, 
 
 238 
 
November 7. 
 
 November 8. 
 
 November 9, 
 
 239 
 
November 10, 
 
 And though the distance grows so wide, 
 We tread Love's circle year by year ; 
 We are nearer on the other side 
 The farther we are sundered here. 
 
 C F. Bates. 
 For I know and esteem you, and feel that your 
 
 nature is noble. 
 Lifting mine up to a higher, a more ethereal level. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 November 11, 
 
 Her maiden pride, her haughty name. 
 My dumb devotion shall not shame ; 
 The love that no return doth crave 
 To knightly levels lifts the slave. 
 
 No lance have I, in joust or fight. 
 To splinter in my lady's sight ; 
 But at her feet, how blest were I 
 P'or any need of hers to die ! 
 
 y. G. Whittier. 
 
 November 12, 
 
 I stand on the top, but I look not back 
 
 To the way behind me spread ; 
 Not to the path my feet have trod. 
 
 But the path they still must tread. 
 
 And I have gained in hope and trust. 
 
 Till the future looks so bright, 
 That, letting go of the hand of Faith, 
 
 I walk, at times, by sight. 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 240 
 
November 10, 
 
 November 11. 
 
 November 12. 
 
 241 
 
N^ovember 13. 
 
 Live not without a friend ! The Alpine rock must 
 
 own 
 Its mossy grace or else be nothing but a stone. 
 
 Live not without a God ! however low or high, 
 In every house should be a window to the sky. 
 
 IV, JV. Story. 
 
 November IJf. 
 
 So from the trodden ways of earth, 
 
 Seem some sweet souls who veil their worth. 
 
 And offer to the careless glance, 
 
 The clouding grave of circumstance. 
 
 They blossom best where hearth-fires burn ; 
 
 To loving eyes alone they turn 
 
 The flowers of inward grace, that hide 
 
 Their beauty from the world outside. 
 
 J. G, Whittier. 
 
 November 15. 
 
 I know a little damsel as light of foot as the air. 
 And with smile as gay as the sun o' the May, 
 And clouds of golden hair. 
 
 To plague me and to please me she knows a thou- 
 sand arts, 
 And against my will I love her still 
 With all my heart of hearts ! 
 
 A lice Gary. 
 
 242 
 
NoDember 13, 
 
 November IJf. 
 
 November 15, 
 
 243 
 
November 16. 
 
 Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an 
 excellent adage. 
 
 That's what I always say ; if you wish a thing to be 
 
 well done, 
 You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to 
 
 others. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 November 17. 
 
 For looking backward through the year, 
 Along the way my feet have pressed, 
 
 I see sweet places everywhere, — 
 
 Sweet places where my soul had rest. 
 
 My sorrows have not been so light, 
 
 The chastening hand I could not trace; 
 
 Nor have my blessings been so great 
 That they have hid my Father's face. 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 November 18. 
 
 Sometimes the arrowy sharpness of a sorrow, 
 
 Piercing life's common calm. 
 Smites hidden rocks of comfort, which to-morrow 
 
 O'erflow in healing balm. 
 'Neath burdens that we stagger in the taking 
 
 We walk erect at length ; 
 And bitter blows that bowed almost to breaking. 
 
 Reveal our secret strength. 
 
 Mrs. M. L. Dickinson. 
 
 244 
 
Novemher IG, 
 
 JSFovemher 17. 
 
 Kovember 18. 
 
 245 
 
Novemher 19. 
 
 Let us, then, be what we are, and speak what we 
 think, and in all things 
 
 Keep yourselves loyal to truth, and the sacred pro- 
 fessions of friendship. 
 
 It is no secret I tell you, nor am I ashamed to 
 declare it: 
 
 I have liked to be with you, to see you, to speak 
 with you always. 
 
 H. IV. Lons; fellow. 
 
 November 20, 
 
 They say that he has genius. I but see 
 
 That he gets wisdom as the flower gets hue, 
 
 While others hive it like the toiling bee ; 
 
 That, with l;iim, all things beautiful keep new, 
 
 And every morn the first morn seems to be — 
 So freshly look abroad his eyes of blue ! 
 
 What he has written seems to me no more 
 
 Than I have thought a thousand times before ! 
 
 N. P. Willis. 
 
 November 21, 
 
 Henceforth the tiller Truth shall hold, 
 
 And steer as Conscience tells. 
 And I will brave the storms of Fate, 
 
 Though wild the ocean swells. 
 I know my soul is strong and high, 
 
 If once I give it sway ; 
 I feel a glorious power within. 
 
 Though light I seem and gay. 
 
 Mrs. F. S. Osgood. 
 
 246 
 
November 19. 
 
 November 20. 
 
Novemher 22, 
 
 The threads our hands in blindness spin 
 No self-determined plan weaves in ; 
 The shuttle of the unseen powers 
 Works out a pattern not as ours. 
 Through wish, resolve, and act, our will 
 Is moved by undreamed forces still ; 
 And no man measures in advance 
 His strength with untried circumstance. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 N'ovemher 28, — - - — — 
 
 Unmurmuring, patient, cheerful, pitiful, 
 Prompt with the holy sufferer to endure, 
 
 Forsaking. all to follow the dear Lord, — 
 Thus did he make his glorious calling sure. 
 
 O soul, whoe'er thou art, walking life's way. 
 As yet from touch of deadly sorrow free, 
 
 Learn from this story to forecast the day 
 
 When Jesus and his cross shall come to thee. 
 
 Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 
 
 - - — — — J^ov ember 24-* — 
 
 While we are young our youth too near for Art 
 
 doth lie — 
 Our life a poem is, but for another's eye. 
 
 Not in the present we the present charm can feel, 
 But Memory and Hope have Beauty's wondrous 
 seal. 
 
 Time melts the dross away and leaves the ore alone. 
 And in a magic ring it sets life's opal stone. 
 
 P^. IV. Story. 
 
 248 
 
Novemiher 22. 
 
 November 2S 
 
 November 2J/.. 
 
 249 
 
N^ovember 25, 
 
 The task was thine to mould and fashion 
 
 Life's plastic newness into grace: 
 To make the boyish heart heroic, 
 
 And light with thought the maiden's face. 
 
 O'er all the land, in town and prairie, 
 With bended heads of mourning, stand 
 
 The living forms that owe their beauty 
 And fitness to thy shaping hand. 
 
 J. G, Whittier. 
 
 JSTovemher 26, 
 
 In the haste of youth we miss 
 
 Its best of blisses ; 
 Sweeter than the stolen kiss 
 
 Are the granted kisses. 
 
 Higher than the perfect song 
 
 For which love longeth. 
 Is the tender fear of wrong 
 
 That never wrongeth. 
 
 Bayard Taylor, 
 
 November 27. 
 
 Patient the wounded earth receives the plough's 
 
 sharp share. 
 And hastes the sweet return of golden grain to bear. 
 
 So patient under scorn and injury abide, — 
 Who conquereth all within may dare the world 
 outside. 
 
 M^. IV, Story, 
 
 250 
 
November 25, 
 
 November 26. 
 
 November 27, 
 
 251 
 
November 28, 
 
 To him all things were possible, and seemed 
 Not what he had accomplished, but had dreamed, 
 And what were tasks to others were his play, 
 The pastime of an idle holiday. 
 
 And all men loved him for his modest grace. 
 And comeliness of figure and of face. 
 
 H, W. Longfellow. 
 
 November 29. — ■ 
 
 So to my heart your memory clings, 
 
 So sweet, so rich, so delicate ; 
 Eternal summer-time it brings, 
 
 Defying all the storms of fate ; 
 A power to turn the darkness bright, 
 
 Till life with matchless beauty glows ; 
 Each moment touched with tender light, 
 
 And every thought of you a rose ! 
 
 Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 November SO, 
 
 He was so human ! whether strong or weak, 
 Far from his kind he neither sank nor soared, 
 But sat an equal guest at every board : 
 No beggar ever felt him condescend. 
 No prince presume ; for still himself he bare 
 At manhood's simple level, and where'er 
 He met a stranger, there he left a friend. 
 
 J. R. Lowell. 
 
 252 
 
November 28^ 
 
 November 29, 
 
 November SO, 
 
 253 
 
Cf^;^^c^-&-S3^:^^^t^ 
 
DECEMBER- 
 
 ANNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky, 
 Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, 
 Seems nowhere to alight ; the whited air 
 Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, 
 And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end. 
 The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet 
 Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit 
 Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed 
 In a tumultuous privacy of storm. 
 
 A'. W. Emerson. 
 
 255 
 
December 1, 
 
 Why not take life with cheerful trust, 
 
 With faith in the strength of weakness. 
 The slenderest daisy rears its head 
 With courage and with meekness. 
 A sunny face, 
 Hath holy grace. 
 To woo the sun for ever. 
 
 Mrs. M. M. Dodge. 
 
 December 2. 
 
 Her winning smile and her gleeful glance 
 
 Like a beam of sunshine fell ; 
 Making the saddest heart rejoice, 
 
 Like some sweet bewitching spell. 
 
 And her gifted mind shone brightly out 
 
 In her fair and youthful face. 
 And the charm of a kind and a gentle heart 
 
 Shed around her a lovely grace. 
 
 C. F, Orne. 
 
 ■ December 3. 
 
 When life, once past its fortieth year 
 Wheels up its evening hemisphere. 
 The mind's own shadow, which the boy 
 Saw onward point to hope and joy. 
 Shifts round, irrevocably set 
 Toward morning's loss and vain regret. 
 And, argue with it as we will. 
 The clock is unconverted still. 
 
 y. R. Low2lL 
 
 256 
 
December 1, 
 
 December 2. 
 
 December 3. 
 
 257 
 
— — — December 4* ~ — — — 
 
 Have courage ! Keep good cheer ! 
 
 Our longest time is brief. 
 To those who hold you dear 
 
 Bring no more grief. 
 
 But cherish blisses small, 
 
 Grateful for least delight 
 That to your lot doth fall 
 
 However slight. 
 
 Mrs. Celia Tkaxter. 
 
 ■ Dece'tnber 5. — ^ 
 
 A gentle boy, with soft and silken locks, 
 A dreamy boy, with brown and tender eyes, 
 
 A castle-builder, with his wooden blocks, 
 And towers that touch imaginary skies. 
 
 Build on, and make thy castles high and fair, 
 Rising and reaching upward to the skies; 
 
 Listen to voices in the upper air, 
 
 Nor lose thy simple faith in mysteries. 
 
 H. JV. Longfelloiv. 
 
 December 6. 
 
 Have T my guardian angels grieved 
 
 That they have taken flight ? 
 Or frown'st thou on me, oh my God ! 
 
 In the visions of the night ? 
 Yet with a child's fond faith I rest 
 
 Still on thy fatherhood ; 
 Speak peace unto my troubled dreams, 
 
 Thou merciful and good ! 
 
 Mrs. S. y. Lippincott. 
 
 258 
 
December 4* 
 
 December 5. 
 
 December 6. 
 
 259. 
 
December 7. 
 
 For what is the grace of the lily 
 
 But her own slender grace ? 
 And what is the rose's beauty 
 
 But the beauty of her face ? 
 
 IV. D. Howelh. 
 
 Ay, for the soul is better than its frame, 
 The spirit than its temple. 
 
 N. P. Willis, 
 
 December 8, — 
 
 It mattered little where I went, 
 Everywhere I was content ; 
 Everywhere I saw and heard 
 
 Sights and sounds divine ; 
 Everywhere was Nature stirred 
 
 And Nature's love was mine. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard, 
 
 December 9, 
 
 She looks through life, and with a balance just 
 Weighs men and things, beholding as they are 
 
 The lives of others : in the common dust 
 She finds the fragments of the ruined star : 
 
 Proud with a pride all feminine and sweet, 
 
 No path can soil the whiteness of her feet. 
 
 Bayard Taylor, 
 
 260 
 
December 7. 
 
 December 8. 
 
 December 9. 
 
 261 
 
December 10, 
 
 As one by one thy hopes depart, 
 Be resolute and calm. 
 
 O fear not in a world like this, 
 And thou shalt know ere long. 
 
 Know how sublime a thing it is 
 To suffer and be strong. 
 
 H» W. Longfellow. 
 
 December 11, 
 
 Suns may fall 
 Or flash ; dear heart ! I speak and call 
 
 Your soul unto its fate. 
 Tread bravely down life's evening slope. 
 Before the night comes, do not grope ! 
 For ever shines some small, sweet hope, 
 
 And God is not too late. 
 
 E. S. Phelps. 
 
 December 12, 
 
 Her voice is glad with holy songs. 
 Her lips are sweet with prayer ; 
 
 Go where you will, in ten miles round 
 Is none more good and fair. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 Only the free, pure spirit hears 
 The heavenly music of the spheres. 
 
 C. F. Orne. 
 
 262 
 
December 10, 
 
 December 11, 
 
 December 12, 
 
 263 
 
Decer)%ber IS. 
 
 Every heart must learn to beat, 
 
 As every robin learns to trill, — 
 And every life be made complete, 
 
 Led upward by a higher will. 
 
 D. R. Goodale. 
 
 She was of that better clay 
 
 Which treads not oft this earthly stage : 
 Such charmed spirits lose their way 
 
 But once or twice into an age. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 December IJf. 
 
 Build to-day, then, strong and sure. 
 
 With a firm and ample base ; 
 And ascending and secure 
 
 Shall to-morrow find its place. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 O thou sculptor, painter, poet ! 
 
 Take this lesson to thy heart : 
 That is best w^hich lieth nearest ; 
 
 Shape from that thy work of art. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 December 15. 
 
 For thee the sun shines and the earth rejoices 
 
 In fragrance, music, light ; 
 The spring-time wooes thee with a thousand voices. 
 
 For thee her flowers are bright ; 
 Youth crowds thee, and love waits upon thy splen- 
 dor, 
 
 Trembling beneath thine eyes ; 
 The morning sky is yet serene and tender. 
 
 Thy life before thee lies. Mrs. Celia Thaxter. 
 
 264 
 
December IS, 
 
 December i^. 
 
 December 15. 
 
 265 
 
December 16. 
 
 Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, 
 
 Onward through life he goes ; 
 Each morning sees some task begin, 
 
 Each evening sees its close ; 
 Something attempted, something done, 
 
 Has earned a night's repose. 
 
 H. W. Longfelloiv. 
 
 December 17. 
 
 Close to the Silent Gate 
 Friends gone before thee wait, 
 While they still here behold 
 Thy white locks lit with gold. 
 
 Hark ! in mibuilded spires 
 Bells chime ! and miborn choirs, 
 Tuned to a later fame, 
 Still breathe and bless thy name ! 
 
 Mrs. Z. B. Gustafson. 
 
 December 18. 
 
 Strive not to say the whole ! the Poet in his Art 
 Must intimate the whole, and say the smallest part. 
 
 Of every noble work the silent part is best. 
 
 Of all expression, that which cannot be expressed. 
 
 Each act contains the Life, each work of Art the 
 
 world, 
 And all the planet laws are in each dew-drop pearled. 
 
 W. IV. story. 
 
 266 
 
December 16, 
 
 December 17, 
 
 December 18, 
 
 267 
 
December 19, 
 
 I know not : but, whate'er thou art, 
 
 Whoe'er thou art, were mme the spell, 
 To call Fate's joys or blunt his dart. 
 There should not be one hand or heart 
 But served or wished thee well. 
 
 Fitz-Greene Halleck. 
 
 — — — =— December 20. 
 
 To seek is better than to gain, 
 The fond hope dies as we attain ; 
 Life's fairest things are those which seem ; 
 The best is that of which we dream. 
 
 So failure wins ; the consequence 
 Of loss becomes its recompense ; 
 And evermore the end shall tell 
 The unreached ideal guided well. 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 December 21, 
 
 And me — do you remember ? I remain 
 Unchanged, I think ; though one I saw like me 
 Some years ago, with hair that was not white ; 
 And she was with you then as brave a soul 
 As souls can be whom Fate has not approached. 
 But seek and find me now unchanged or changed, 
 Mirthful in tears, and in my laughter sad. 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Stoddard. 
 
 268 
 
December 19. 
 
 December 20. 
 
 December 21, 
 
 269 
 
December 
 
 Her pride was suited to her high estate, 
 Her gentleness was equal with her youth, 
 Her wisdom in her goodness found its mate. 
 
 No woman's head so keen to work its will. 
 But that the woman's heart is mistress still. 
 
 E. C. Stedman. 
 
 December 23, 
 
 So, when God's shadow, which is light, 
 
 Unheralded, by day or night, 
 
 My wakening instincts falls across, 
 
 Silent as sunbeams over moss, 
 
 In my heart's nest half-conscious things 
 
 Stir with a helpless sense of wings. 
 
 Lift themselves up, and tremble long 
 
 With premonitions sweet of song. 
 
 y. R. Lowell. 
 
 December 2 If. 
 
 But as the bell that high in some cathedral swings, 
 Stirred by whatever thrill with its own music rings, 
 So finer souls give forth, to each vibrating tone 
 Impinging on their life, a music of their own. 
 
 Lift thou thyself above the accidents of life, 
 With pain and joy alike be friends, abjuring strife. 
 
 IV. IV. story. 
 
 270 
 
December 22, 
 
 December 23. 
 
 December 24-, 
 
 271 
 
December 25. 
 
 In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across 
 
 the sea, 
 With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and 
 
 me : 
 As he died to make men holy, let us die to make 
 
 men free, 
 
 While God is marching on. 
 
 Mrs. y. W. Howe. 
 
 December 26. 
 
 Her face has the look worn by those who with God 
 
 and his angels have talked : 
 The white robes she wears are less white than the 
 
 spirits with which she has walked*. 
 
 Mrs. y. C. R. Dorr. 
 
 Not only around our infancy 
 Doth heaven with all its splendors lie, 
 Daily with souls that cringe and plot. 
 We Sinais climb and know it not 
 
 y. R. Lowell 
 
 December 27. 
 
 God speaks to me in shouting winds. 
 And in the waves that shoreward come, 
 And in the little insects' hum. 
 And in the still, small voice of human minds. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 I know not what the years may bring 
 Of dangers wild, or joys serene. 
 But turning to the east, I sing, 
 ** Lord, keep my memory green." 
 
 y. G. Clark. 
 
 272 
 
December 25. 
 
 December 26, 
 
 December 27. 
 
 273 
 
December 28. 
 
 And as feeble babes that suffer, 
 
 Toss, and cry, and will not rest, 
 Are the ones the tender mother 
 
 Holds the closest, loves the best : 
 So, when we are weak and wretched. 
 
 By our sins weighed down, distressed. 
 Then it is that God's great patience 
 
 Holds us closest, loves us best. 
 
 Saxe Holm. 
 
 December 29, 
 
 Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme. 
 Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay ; 
 
 Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime. 
 For oh, it is not always May ! 
 
 Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, 
 To some good angel leave the rest ; 
 
 For Time will teach thee soon the truth. 
 There are no birds in last year's nest ! 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 December SO. 
 
 One of the few, the immortal names 
 That were not born to die. 
 
 Fitz-Greene Halleck. 
 
 Green be the turf above thee. 
 
 Friend of my better days ! 
 None knew thee but to love thee, 
 
 Nor named thee but to praise. 
 
 Fitz-Greene Halleck, 
 
 274 
 
December 28. 
 
 December 29. 
 
 December SO, 
 
 275 
 
December SI, 
 
 All round the year the trusting soul 
 May find the word of promise whole ; 
 The flight of time, unknown above, 
 Breaks not our Father's boundless love ; 
 Unbroken be the tranquil light 
 That folds our lesser sphere, 
 As ever pure, and calm, and bright 
 All round the year. 
 
 Elaine Goodale, 
 
 276 
 
December 31, 
 
 27T 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS. 
 
 Page 
 Adams, John Quincy » • . . 146 
 
 Aldrich, Thomas B 6, 50, 60, 124, 132, 144 
 
 Allen, Mrs. EHzabeth Akers 202, 204 
 
 Bates, Charlotte F iv, 40, 42, 112, 240 
 
 Beers, Mrs. Ethel Lynn .... 132, 144, 158, 174 
 
 Benjamin, Park 150 
 
 Brooks, Mrs. Maria G 130, 158, 190 
 
 Bryant, Wilham Culien 2, 4, 6, 20, 25, 30, 54, 58, 68, 
 84, 90, 118, 134, 192, 233 
 
 Carleton, Will 20, 36, 66 
 
 Gary, Alice . S2, 90, 98, 106, 128, 136, 178, 206, 242 
 
 Gary, Phcebe 50, 56, 72, 104, 126, 156, 158, 172, 174, 
 
 176, 180, 198, 212, 216, 226, 240, 244 
 
 Glark, James G 272 
 
 Glarke, James Freeman 14S 
 
 Cooke, Mrs. Rose Terry 164, 210 
 
 Coxe, Arthur C 148 
 
 Dickinson, Mrs. Mary Lowe . . 12, 16, 36, 244 
 Dodge, Mrs. Mary Mapes . 62, 80, 86, 210, 218, 256 
 Dorr, Mrs. Julia C. R. . 66, 88, 96, 102, 126, 172, 272 
 
 279 
 
Index of Authors, 
 
 Ellet, Mrs. Elizabeth F .168 
 
 Emerson, Ralph Waldo 2, 4, 14, -^Z^ 48, 54, 56, 71 
 ^2>, %Z\ 100, 122, 154, 172, 182, 234, 255 
 
 Fields, James T 148' 
 
 Gilder, Richard W . 4, no, 140 
 
 Goodale, Elaine 187, 276 
 
 Goodale, Dora Read . 264 
 
 Gould, Hannah F. 188 
 
 Gustafson, Mrs. Zadel B. . 52, 71, 94, 124, 234, 266 
 
 Hale, Mrs. Sarah J 188, 194 
 
 Halleck, Fitz-Greene 200, 268, 274 
 
 Hoffman, Charles F 160 
 
 Holland, Josiah G. 8, 26, 36, 50, 62, 66, 76, 96, 102, 
 
 112, 126, 158, 192 
 Holm, Saxe 274 
 
 Holmes, Oliver Wendell 12, 28, 40, 64, 86, 100, 122, 
 
 i39> 142, 150J 182 
 
 Howe, Mrs. Julia Ward 170, 202, 272 
 
 Howells, William D. 14, 48, 52, 72, 84, 96, 163, 260 
 
 Jackson, Mrs. Helen Hunt 8, 47, 52, 80, 93, 98, 104, 
 
 no, 184, 198, 209, 238 
 
 Jacobs, Sarah S 200 
 
 Judson, Mrs. Emily C 168 
 
 Kendall, Joshua 142 
 
 Kimball, Harriet McE 230 
 
 280 
 
Index of Authors, 
 
 Larcom, Lucy 20, 32, 74, 108, no, 122, 166, 224, 238 
 
 Lippincott, Mrs. Sara J 258 
 
 Longfellow, Henry W. 2, 4, 6, 10, 14, 18, 28, 30, 32 
 
 34, 36, 38, 44, 48, 54, 58, 64, 72, 88, 106, 112, 118,' 
 
 122, 128, 134, 142, 150, 154, 158, 168, 174, 178, 187, 
 
 190, 196, 206, 218, 220, 226, 228, 234, 238, 240, 244, 
 
 246, 252, 258, 262, 264, 266, 274 
 
 Lowell, James Russell 2, 16, 22, 26, 32, 42, 48, 64, "jZ^ 
 
 117, 130, 134, 148, 166, 178, 190, 192, 206, 214, 220, 
 
 224, 234, 236, 252, 256, 270, 272 
 
 Lowell, Robert 204, 210 
 
 Miller, Joaquin 98, 100, 106, 118, 132, 140, 152, 164, 
 
 204, 210, 220 
 Moulton, Mrs. Louise Chandler . . . 144, 218, 222 
 
 O'Reilly, John Boyle ...... 94, 104, 108 
 
 Orne, Caroline F 256, 262 
 
 Osgood, Mrs. Frances Sargent .... 168, 246 
 
 Osgood, Kate Putnam 214 
 
 Ossoli, Countess d' (Margaret Fuller) .... 200 
 
 Percival, James G 146 
 
 Perry, Nora 17^,228 
 
 Phelps, Elizabeth Stuart 2, 28, -^^^ 74, 82, 84, 102, 142, 
 
 178, 262 
 
 Piatt, Mrs. S. M. B 40, 60, 180, 216 
 
 Poe, Edgar A 8, 164 
 
 281 
 
Lidex of Authors, 
 
 Prentice, George D 146 
 
 Prescott, Mary N 222 
 
 Preston, Mrs. Margaret J 222 
 
 Read, Thomas Buchanan 140, 152, 156, 168, 174, 184, 
 
 194, 196, 198, 264 
 
 Saxe, John G 10, 20, 28, 74, 100 
 
 Sigourney, Mrs. Lydia H. . . » 192 
 
 Spofford, Mrs. Harriet Prescott 226 
 
 Stedman, Edmund C. 4, 32, 42, 44, 82, 94, 104, 11^, 
 
 270 
 
 Stoddard, Mrs. Elizabeth 212, 268 
 
 Stoddard, Richard H iv, 50, 72, 84, 
 
 88, 100, 106, no, 120, 130, 146, 152, 166, 174, 216, 
 
 260, 272 
 
 Story, WiUiam W 242, 248, 250, 266, 270 
 
 Stowe, Mrs. Harriet Beecher 212, 248 
 
 Taylor, Bayard 12, 14, 18, 26, 34, 36, 40, 44, 52, 56, 
 58, 60, 72, 76, 108, 112, 118, T76, 250, 260 
 
 Thaxter, Mrs. Ceha 58, 62, 130, 134, 144, 154, 164, 
 180, 194, 214, 224, 228, 236, 252, 258, 264 
 
 Thor^au, Henry D 48 
 
 Trowbridge, John T 12, 14, 122, 172 
 
 Welby, Mrs. AmeUa B 170 
 
 Whitman, Mrs. Sarah H 196 
 
 282 
 
Index of Authors. 
 
 Whitney, Mrs. A. D. T. . . . i8, 28, 120, 142, 220 
 
 Whitlier, John G. i, 10, 16, 26, 30, 34, 38, 40, 42, 56, 
 
 58, 72, 76, 78,80, 90, 96, 98, io6, 110, 112, 120, 124, 
 
 136, 142, 156, 170, 176, 182, 188, 190, 196, 202, 216, 
 
 222, 228, 236, 240, 242, 248, 250, 262, 268 
 
 Willis, Nathaniel P. 50, 78, 86, 128, 136, 180, 194, 
 
 246, 260 
 Winter, W^illiam 182 
 
 283 
 
INDEX OF BIRTHDAYS. 
 
 285 
 
Lidex of Birthdays, 
 
 286 
 
Ifidex of Birthdays, 
 
 287 
 
hidex of Birthdays, 
 
 288 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 E. 
 
 289 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 
 290 
 
Index of Birthdays. 
 G. 
 
 291 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 H. 
 
 292 
 
 f\ 
 
hidex of Birthdays. 
 
 293 
 
hidex of Birthdays. 
 J. 
 
 294 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 K. 
 
 295 
 
hidex of Birthdays, 
 
 296 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 M. 
 
 297 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 
 N. 
 
 298 
 
Index of Bh'lhdays, 
 O. 
 
 299 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 p. 
 
 300 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 Q. 
 
 301 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 
 302 
 
Index of Birthdays. 
 
 303 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 
 304 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 
 u. 
 
 305 
 
Index of Birthdays, 
 w. 
 
 306 
 
Index of Birthdays. 
 
 Y. 
 
 307 
 
S9^^^^^.■w^lv^5ff^if.^ig'p 
 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 017 400 520 5