But the careless traveler, passing, Heedless of it went his way; Thus this miracle of beauty Lone in hidden glory lay. Bloom and sunshine, sweeter, brighter, Him from distant mountains greet; On to that the stranger hurries, Past the moss-bed at his feet. Then the moss-bed sighed, complaining To the evening dew that fell; And its tufted bosom heaving, Thus its 'plains began to tell: 'Ah! men love you, bloom and sunshine, Long its rosy glow to see, Feed their eyes on luring flowers Whilst their feet tread rude on me!' Now, when mellow rays of sunset Lingered golden on the trees, Came a weary pilgrim slowly From the bordering forest leas. This was JESUS, just returning From his fast of forty days; Worn by Satan's fierce temptations, He for rest and comfort prays. Sore his sacred feet are blistered, Wandering o'er the desert-sands; Torn and bleeding from the briers, Sufferings which the curse demands. When he came upon the moss-bed, Soon he felt how cool and sweet Lay the soft and velvet carpet 'Neath his wounded, bleeding feet. 'Then he paused and spake this blessing: 'Gift of my kind Father's love! Fret not, little plant, thy record Shineth in the book above. By the careless eye unheeded, Bear thy lowly, humble lot; Thou hast eased my weary walking, Thou art ne'er in heaven forgot.' Scarcely had he breathed this blessing On the moss that soothed his woes, When upon its bosom gathered, Budded, bloomed, a lovely rose! And its petals glowed with crimson Like the clouds at close of day; And a glory on the mosses Like the smile of cherubs lay. Then said JESUS to the flower: 'Moss-rose--this thy name shall be-- Spread thou o'er all lands, the sweetest Emblem of humility. Out of lowly mosses budding, Which have soothed a pilgrim's pain, Thou shalt tell the world what honor All the lowly, lovely gain.' Hear his words, ye lonely children, By the world unseen, unknown; Wait ye for the suffering pilgrim, Coming weary, faint, and lone. Keep your hearts still soft and tender, Like the velvet bed of moss; God will bless the love you render, To some bearer of the cross. * * * * * In our May number we spoke old Englishly of the Boston demoiselle. In the present number we have: YE PHILADELPHIA YOUNGE LADYE.