The following article was written for an Album, February 12th, 1852. I sat down with the intention of writing a prose article, by the request of a lady, without the aid of spirits. When seated, my mind lost all thought, for a few moments: I had no design of writing a poetical article, for nature did not make me a poet, and not much of a judge of poetry. I will say, I never wrote a line of poetry in my life, unless with the aid of spirits, since I have been a medium. In about five minutes my hand began to move, and wrote as follows: THE SECOND SPHERE. There is a flower that fadeth never; There is a star which never sets; There is a gem that shineth ever-- There is a Mind, which ne’er forgets The flower, so sweet, so fadeless, even The star, ’mid other stars, so bright-- The gem that decks the vault of heaven; Or mind that lives for purer light, Where angels dwell in nightless day, Where seraphs chant the holy lay, Where minds unite with minds above, Where all is peace, where all is love. There is a casket filled with flowers; There is a stream of crystal life; There is a beauty decks my bowers, In this bright world away from strife; Which fills my soul with grateful praise, Which melts my heart with holy fire, Which wakes my song, inspires my lays, And quickens mind with pure desire; For sweet employ in works of love, To bless my soul with grace above-- The flower, the star, or gem so fair, That I no want or sorrow share. LINES Addressed to Rev. T. J. SMITH, through S. H. LEWIS, Medium, March, 1851. Go ahead, look backward, never, ONWARD, be the CRY Fight truth’s battles--never, never, From the contest fly. Be thou ever looking upward, For the truth on high; Falter, faint not, in the struggle; Be your watchword, TRY. TRY for every thing that’s glorious, Be you good and true; Ever be your motto, progress-- Ev’ry THING that’s new. Care not for the world’s applauding; Think of something higher, Strive to serve the heavenly Father; Preach, with holy fire. Holy spirits guard you ever, Keep you in the way; From the earth, your heart then sever-- Wait the rising day-- Ye shall see it, feel it, know it, Tell it to the world-- Tell them ALL, that superstition From its throne is hurled. S. R. SMITH. THE VOICE OF THE SPIRIT. Blessed are the living who see the light of salvation. They shall be as stars in the firmament, and shine forever and ever in the heavenly kingdom. They shall not visit the tomb of the departed without hope, nor mourn without consolation. They shall rejoice always in the hope of heaven.