“He became somewhat interested in me in those early days, at Ashton under-Lyne, England, and we formed a spiritual affinity that has survived physical separation, and even death itself. We lost sight of each other; but after my first experiences in spirit life I determined to visit America. By the law of spiritual affinity I was attracted to a “circle” held by this medium, then a girl in her teens. My old-time friend, Robert Anderson, who had long been a resident of Boston, and had become interested in the revealments of Spiritualism, discovering mediumistic qualities in his own being, that enabled him to perceive and to converse with spirits, was present at that circle. The links of sympathy formerly binding us together immediately revealed themselves, and I gave him spirit-greeting. Since that time, some six years ago, I have been a frequent visitor to this home, meeting my old friend and holding social converse with him. I do not always need to control the medium for that purpose, for he is both clairvoyant and clairaudient, and it sometimes pleases me to enter the sphere of his spiritual aura and converse with him in the Lancashire dialect, which seems to recall old associations to our minds.” Mr. Prince refers above to the spirit-greeting he gave his friend Mr. Anderson, who had for many years held a devoted friendship for the parents of Miss Shelhamer, the medium, and who was ever a welcome visitor in their home, upon his first appearance from the higher life. This greeting was expressed in verse, and appears below. The recipient of this poetical tribute was highly gratified as well as astonished at the production, for he recognized in its composition the well-remembered style of his old friend Prince, as well as quotations from a poem written by the spirit author in England many years before he passed from the body, and which had never appeared in print in this country. The poem thus delivered is entitled I COME TO THEE. When evening shadows lightly fall, And earth is wrapped in holy peace, When over cottage roof and wall The sounds of toil and revel cease, I come to thee. When in the fair and cloudless skies The golden stars their vigils keep, Like countless hosts of angel eyes That guard the world while hushed in sleep, I come to thee. Not when the roses climb the wall, And sweetly scent the balmy breeze, Not when the joyous songs of birds Make music through the leafy trees, I come to thee; When the earth is nobly ruled[5] By winter’s weird, majestic reign, “When moonlit snow is on the roof, And pictured frost is on the pane,”[6] I come to thee.