The road you are now to travel, Is high over the common plain, But when you have reached its level, You must rise above it again. You must go onward and upward, Nor halt in your journey thru life, There’s always work in Christ’s vineyard, For the faithful minister’s wife. ’Tis a difficult role to fill, And the work will never be done, But if you take hold with a will, Then half the victory is won. Grapple with boldness and courage, The duties to which you’re assigned, And use all your strength and knowledge, In work for the good of mankind. Always be pleasant and cheerful, Forgiving, consoling and kind, Speak soothing words to the tearful, Bring light to the hearts of the blind. Help, O help the poor and the sick, Help them with tears, labor and love, Help them out when sorrows are thick, Help them in the kingdom above. There’s a veil that obstructs our view, From the beautiful higher life, You should try hard to break it thru, For you are a minister’s wife. Be a helpmeet to your husband, Relieve him of burdens and care, And the noble work of his hand, Will bring you in glory to share. Wherever duty may place you, In all the relations of life, Remember, father commands you, Be a model minister’s wife. NOTHING TO SAY. You ask me some verses to write, But when I have nothing to say, I had much rather keep quiet, Than write in a roundabout way. But as nature is always kind, Perhaps she’ll assist me today, And thus I’ll be able to grind Some verses on--nothing to say. ’Tis a splendid maxim, I’m told, And I do not doubt what they say, It will do for young and for old, Never speak when you’ve nothing to say. Now if you will let me advise, This maxim you’ll always obey, Do just like the good and the wise, Never speak when you’ve nothing to say. THE HEART. The heart like a sponge may drink to its fill, But unlike the sponge there is room in it still, Fill it with sorrow and pack it with pain, One touch of sweet love revives it again. Crush it, abuse it, it bleeds like a sieve, Tender it kindness, it holds all you give, Pound it, and shake it, until it is sore, Its love is as sweet as ever before. Sad it becomes without love to bless it, Deeply it mourns for friends to caress it, Deprived of love it loses its power, Watered with hope it blooms like a flower. Dear is the heart that friends safely can trust, Peaceful the bosom when the heart is just, Blest is the heart when its love is secure, Happy the friends loved by hearts that are pure. MY DARLING FLORA’S MARGARET.