There’s a homestead of beauty by Delaware’s stream, And the sweet tones of children are ringing all day, While the voice of the mother is blithesome and glad, As the notes of the song-bird that warbles in May. The Angel of Peace to the hearth-stone has come, With a message of mercy to brighten each dream, And as glad to the heart, as ’tis pure to the eye, Is that homestead of beauty by Delaware’s stream. The woodbine has curtained the threshold with flowers, And the half-shaded sunbeams fall soft on the floor; While the white-sanded streamlet is singing as sweet As the echoes of music, when music is o’er. The dew on each snow-drop is gem-like and bright, And the lily is bathed in morn’s earliest beam, While the zephyrs are whispering their matins of praise, Round that homestead of beauty by Delaware’s stream. The wings of the evening come loaded with bliss, When the toil and the trouble of daylight is past, And the coolness and calm of the star-lighted hours, O’er the dwellers in hall and in cottage is cast, The sun-browned cheek of the father is kissed; With tears the full eye of the parent will gleam As he presses those loved ones more near to his heart, In that homestead of beauty by Delaware’s stream. And then from that cottage the hymn and the prayer Uprose, when the hour of reposing had come; And each sent an offering of thanksgiving up To _Him_ who had blessed them with quiet at home. Oh! who has not wished, when the cold world has chilled Each flow’ret that blossomed in life’s morning dream. To find out some refuge from sorrow and care, Like that homestead of beauty by Delaware’s stream. * * * * * GEMS FROM LATE READINGS. * * * * * BY G. P. R. JAMES.