UNCLE SAM, HIS HOME, AND FLAG.

A great big friend of all the world
Is your genial Uncle Sam,

And he has no need to pose and strut

As the only great "I am!"

He knows there are others as big as himself,
But on this he makes his brag-

That there's none so happy, and none so free,
As the millions under his flag!

Then it's eyes front-guide right-
Dress to your uncle's flag!

It's an emblem pure that can endure
Without the aid of brag.

Light of the hopeless, hope of the slave
It was, and ever shall be;

So it's stand by-hats off
To the flag of liberty!

The eagle's standard tops them all—

'Rah! for the eagle-bird,

And the rest stand 'round and lie to the ground When his piercing voice is heard.

In his talons keen there may be seen

A flag-red, white, and blue;

And he bears it high in the golden sky
For Freedom's sons to view.

Then it's rally, boys-cheer, boys

'Rah! for the eagle's home!

Built of the hills and the plains and the lakes, With the great sky for its dome.

And 'rah! for the stretch of the eagle's wing

That covers this Western world;

And a dozen or more for the sand in his craw,
And the flag that shall never be furled!

The battle-line, the bloody breach,

Have seen its folds of flame,

Where dripping steel and the shrapnel's screech

Were all a part of the game.

But the boys "stood pat" for all of that,

And the flag "stayed put" where they took it, And though heroes fell in a rain of hellYet never a man forsook it!

Then it's steady, boys-ready, boys-
For the banner of liberty!

The flag that blesses hill and plain
And kisses the bounding sea.

Light of the hopeless, hope of the world!
Mankind it ever shall bless;

May it shed its light till the world is bright
And its shadow never grow less!

END OF THE CENTURY ECLIPSE.
From out the grey expanse of eastern ocean
In regal splendor mounts the sun once more.
The willing world renews her ancient homage,
All nature springs to meet him and adore.

A thousand cities wake beneath his beams,
The world enchanted smiles beneath his sway;

And plains and mountains, brooks and mighty streams
Renew their fealty to the god of day.

But lately risen in such full and glorious majesty,
What shape is that intrudes athwart his path?
What tarnish mars the glory of his visage
And dims the splendor of his sovereign smile?
Spreading a gathering pall as of the night
That with rapacious clasp enthralls
The land, the sea, the air, the light.

END OF THE CENTURY ECLIPSE.

And even as inquiring eyes are raised

The shadow deepens and the darkness comes. Before the onrush of dissembling night

The day is fast departing.

Or can it be that from a world of shame

The servant of Omnipotence doth hide his face?

The silent combat rages-the foe prevails,
And now his conquest is complete!

To bind the frightful victory

See where the darkened cavalry advance
From out the west! Silent as doom,
Swift as the pinions of imagination,
The mighty shadow rushes down
Upon a trembling world.

The sovereign lord of life and light constrained, Now leaves his offspring to a sunless fate,

And lo! a world transformed!

A world of darkness and of chill,

A trembling pit of funereal gloom.

The ribald jest is hushed,

The foolish tongue is stilled.

The vicious and the sinful stand abashed

Before this lesser frown of God.

Eyes which long had sought

Down in the dust, a coin, look up

And marvel with a quaking heart.
The multitudes are mute

As with uplifted face they read the sign.
That God is Lord of all.

And when this shadow of a false night fell,
A vision in that startled minute crushed
Of that dread day to come

When God shall search the souls of men.
Sordid minds and stunted hearts.

From out the by-ways of a narrow life

For once look up, and even as they look
The frown is lifted. Like token of forgiveness
Breaks out the splendor of his smile once more;
A sign to some who read, that darkened deeds.
Can hold but short and transient sway;
And emblem of the prospect

Which the virtuous soul shall see

When death himself withdraws the veil.

Norfolk, Va., May 28, 1900.

IN MEMORIAM-A MAIDEN.

"To know her was to love her,
To name her was to praise."

It seems but yesterday that thou, sweet maid,
With hand outstretched and happy, smiling

face,

Didst dwell among us and our circle grace.
But now, alas-the sexton's cruel spade
Hath filled above where thy loved form was

laid.

We miss and mourn thy gentle voice and cheer;

Thy kindly ways, and grace; and drop love's

tear

Upon thy grave; nor will thy image fade
From out our memory while life doth last.
To thy pure soul God's mysteries are plain;
All sin and sorrow thou hast safely passed,
All worldly longings and all earthly pain.
Farewell, sweet girl,-the angels loved thee
best

And took thee hence to God's eternal rest.