My mother, on her bridal morn, Two twigs inserted there; And twining them together close, United thus the pair; She left them to the charge of Fate, To flourish or to fade; But taking root, they freely grew, And gave the spring a shade; The willow by the spring, The willow by the spring; Oh, may it live and strength receive, While Time the moments wing. How oft have I, when but a child, And e’en in later years, Sat ’neath that willow’s drooping boughs, And bathed its roots in tears; Not for a sadness which I felt, From pains that pressed my heart; But Mem’ry, with her troop of thoughts, Bade Feeling’s fountain start; The willow by the spring, The willow by the spring; Oh, may it live and strength receive, While Time the moments wing. When on the cultured plains of life, A wedded pair I see, Who, true to each, together cling, I think upon that tree; There, green in age, it broadly spreads Its branches to the sun— Distinct, two trunks appear in view, And yet, they “twain are one.” That willow of my home, That willow of my home; Oh, may it live and strength receive, One hundred years to come. * * * * * WE ARE CHANGED. BY EDITH BLYTHE. We are changed—we are changed—The time was once That our hearts were light and free, And the song and the laugh rang out in tones Of merry, blithesome glee: We are changed—we are changed—for grief and care Have wrought the work of years, And our smiles have fled, and our eyes grown dim With burning bitter tears. We are changed—for our hearts no longer now Can echo the songs of mirth, And the sunbeams are few, and the shadows dark, That seem to encircle the earth. The step has grown slow that was buoyant and light, When erst the green forest we ranged; Our fair dreams have fled, and hope’s bright star is gone— And we feel we are changed—we are changed. * * * * * EDITOR’S TABLE. THE MEANS OF A MAN’S LASTING FAME. BY JOSEPH R. CHANDLER. As a general rule, we must look to the earliest years of a man to ascertain the facts and circumstances which have influenced the conduct and produced the result of his latest years; just as we ascend to the sources of a stream, to find what has caused the color and quality of its water; on looking a little down we find those assisting or disturbing accidents that divert or direct its current.