Oh, blessed memories Of home! ye are the worshiped household gods Upon my spirit’s altar. Vanished years! Ye are the dew-drops that my spirit’s flowers Enfold within their petals. Years have passed Since that all-mournful day when, with a sad And breaking heart, and streaming eyes, I left The scenes of childhood, and went forth to find A home amid the stranger-crowds, where I Have learned to wear the mask that others wear, To smile while agony is in my soul, Yet at an hour like this, when Nature glows With deepest loveliness, when earth and heaven Unite to woo my heart from its retreat Of gloom and sorrow, I can wander back To quench my faint and sinking spirit’s thirst At young life’s gushing fountains, and forget That I am not once more a happy child. * * * * * =THE BOY AFAR UNTO HIS SISTER.= =BY LILIAN MAY.= There are hearts in Northland valleys Throbbing, beating wild for me, And their soul-love yearneth ever For a far-off one to see; And the heart-strings of a sister Harpeth all their melody, Wild, sweet lays, for her lone brother, In her joyness and her glee. Oh, the ties which bind me to her Keep aglow my ardent heart, Thrilling it with pure emotion— May it nevermore depart; Oh, I love her ever dearly, Sister kind she’s been to me— All her words are golden music To my heart-hopes minstrelsy. Through the mellow sunlight glim’ring, Glinting down upon the stream, Voices sweet of love-tones falleth, On my gorgeous, bright day-dream, And I fancy forms of beauty Linger then anear my side— ’Mid them all I see my sister Through the misty visions glide. In her love, and in her beauty, Softly, slowly doth she glide, O’er the pathway of my day-dream, As a moon-beam on the tide; And she whispers close beside me, Meekly soft, and kindly low, Words, that kindle up my heart-hopes, Which no other one may know.