“IN
MEMORIAM.”~—DAHLIAS.
219
insolent days, were forgiven end forgotten from that hour. 8he was one of those, whom sorrow improves. Hod I been a sister she could not have been kinder.
“You shall stay with us,” she said, kissing me. “Arthur will be so glad, for he is com¬ pelled to leave me a great deal alone, and I know it gives him pain. You have come to all this, too, because you took my part. Ah! Maggy, it is just like you, always thinking of others be¬ fore yourself.”
I was really grateful for so hearty a welcome. For I felt that I had no other place to go to, at least that night, and that I should have been compelled to ask for a temporary home with her, even if she had not offered it. This much I saw, though I was yet too stunned by the events of the day, to reflect clearly, either on my real position, or on my future plans.
It was now Qeorgiana’8 turn to try to be oheerful. She led the way gayly to my room, Superintended the bringing up of my things, and kept assuring me “Arthur would be so glad that I was to live with them.” But I was not so certain of this. Even my temporary sojourn with them, till I could find some means of em¬ ployment, I began to think might be distasteful to him; for it was plain his pecuniary resources were small; and it was probable he would dis¬ like me on Mr. Talbot’s account. The events of the day had left me nervous, so that, as the hour for his return approached, I began to wish almost that I had rejeeted Georgiana’s invita¬ tion, and gone elsewhere. Bat where could I go? This continually returning question, and the ever repeated answer, that I had nowheta to go, humiliated me beyond words. If Mr. Talbot had wished for revenge, he was having it already.
At last Mr. Deepencer arrived. We heard him in the hall below, stamping the water from his boots; And Georgians hurried down to meet him; while I remained, sitting in the twilight, listen¬ ing to the rain beating against the casements, and feeling as if I had nothing now to live for, nothing to hope for, hereafter.
(to be continued.)
“IN MEMORIAM.”
ST. JOHN'S CHURCH, WILMINGTON: FOUNDED BY ALEXIS J. DUPONT. BY CLARA IOEETON.
Nrvn. of dust beneath, did sculptured stone
So eloquently speak, as this grey spire
Of thee. 0h, laborer without him, whose day
Cloud with the noon—thy Master calling thee
Straight from the field, before thy work was done,
To rent with Him above. Before thy work
Was done? We dare not any of thee—whole lilo
Was filled to overflowing with good deeds,
Who crowded labors, in the noon-tide hour,
30 van! as this—that ought was left uudonol
No! blessed be He who set thee to thy talk,
And when the hours of servitude were o'er,
Redeemed the promise of our Christ, and called
Thee homo to glories of thy heritage!
These massive walls defy the hand of Timei
Ages shall pass, and find them still secure:
Green creeping vines shall slumber up their sides,
And intorlace their sprays. The pasaers by
Shall feel their hearts throb fast, at thoughts of thee,
Gazing upon its beauty and its strength;
And so, to childrsn'l children. will thy name
Go down, kindling to noble deeds. some yet
Unborn, and uatt’ring seeds for harveutime.
DAHLIAS.
BY L‘LARA
AUGUSTA
Toreenzn with the roval crimson fine
Which gleam! blood red in princel‘ wine;
The regal blossoms of the South,
Ripe as some syren’s luring mouth;
Fragrance
ye graze
have not!
Where's
Such courtly
is ample
meed theI need?
The rose is lovely, modest, meek;
I like its dainty, blushing cheek—
But qneenlier is the dahlia flower.
A typo of beauty, fame, and power!
My love must be a stately girl,
With elegance in each lot! curl;
'lio win kings’ hearts, and claim the praise
0f danntleas heroes wearing boys]
I'd have her heart a high, proud shrine,
Where I might lay this love of mine!
Filled to the brim with gorgeous light,
And on the passion of her lips
Alone in proud imperial migbt—
To sway the passions, charm the sense,
And 11"] pMA‘I'OVIDBd innocence!
Bo lost, like bees in red cofllipel
Content with this sweet Heaven helm,
Which makes of life one raptureflowl
