A charm, most spiritual, faint

And delicate, forsakes our breast, Bird-like, when it perceives the taint Of prying breath upon its nest.

-Day and Night Songs.
EARTH.

Search starry mysteries overhead,
Where wonders gleam; yet bear in mind
That Earth's our planet, firm to tread,
Nor in the star dance left behind;
For nothing is withheld, be sure,

Our being needed to have shown.
The far was meant to be obscure,
The near was placed so to be known.
Cast we no astrologic scheme

To map the course we must pursue;
But use the hights whene'er they beam,
And every trusty landmark too.

A

AMELIA M. STARKWEATHER.

MELIA MINERVA STARKWEATHER was born in Starkville, town of Stark, Herkimer county, N. Y. At the age of four her parents removed to Bergen, Genesee county, N. Y. Being settled in her new home, she almost immediately began her school career. Her higher education was received in Cary Collegiate Seminary, at Oakfield, N. Y. Here her love for rhyming began to manifest itself, and her compositions from time to time were written in verse. Before she had finished her graduating course, she was stricken with inflammation of the eyes, which left them in a chronic state of weakness; and for several years she retired almost entirely from society, pursuing however, although with difficulty, her vocation as teacher, which she began at the age of fifteen. Her first poem, entitled "Out in the Cold," was published in the Progressive Batavian. Occasionally other poems followed this, until her removal to Titusville, Pa., where she took a position as teacher in primary work. From time to time she was offered the principalship of the several schools in the city, but she could not quite make up her mind to give up the care of the little ones, especially as the charge of this department afforded her more leisure out of school for writing, as well as time for her beloved Sunday-school work. There always existed in her heart a genuine love and sympathy for little children, and she showed this, not only in her remarkable tact in their management, but also in her tender care and solicitude for their welfare. During her residence in Titusville, Miss Starkweather entered the lecture field, and was received with great favor wherever she appeared upon the platform. She served, most efficiently, the Home Missionary Society as president, for three years. In the midst of all this work she still continued her writing, which now took the form of hymns and poems for children, with occasional stories in prose. Four years ago she prepared and published through a leading firm of Boston, her charming little volume entitled, "Tom Tits and Other Bits." In these poems and stories, many of which are gems in their way, the author has shown a special gift in representing the playful moods of children, and in picturing them to us in all their purity and beauty. "The Robin was written as a recitation for a little girl friend, and was adapted to bring out a sweet bird trill, of which she was master. The two songs, "The Cricket" and "The Owl,” have become quite popular in the public schools. Her hymns, of which she has written some twelve or

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fourteen, have been set to music and published in the Sunday-school song books.

About two years ago Miss Starkweather left Titusville, as her health seemed to demand a change of occupation, and she has since been engaged as financial agent for the Western New York Home for Friendless Children. She makes her home with her sister, Mrs. Basom, at Basom, N. Y., although her summer months are usually spent in her cottage at Chautauqua. S. C. T.

DAY AND NIGHT.

"THE day is past and gone,"

Gone with its hopes and fears, Gone with its broken vows,

Gone with its smiles and tears Up to the great white throne to record In the Book of Life each deed and word.

"The evening shades appear," Marching with silent tread; Filling the heart with awe,

That ripens into dread,

As we think, perchance, of that dark way That leads to the night that has no day.

"O may we all remember well,"

Our hearts to guard with care; Lest through the walks of care and strife Such things should enter there, As, in after years, would bring regret; O, in wisdom may we ne'er forget.

"The night of death draws near." O, Welcome, night of rest, Prelude to that bright morn

When all the good and blest, Shall rise with garments pure and white To greet the day that has no night.

JESUS MY LORD.

I'd rather get down at the feet of my Lord,
And gather the crumbs as they fall,
Than sit as a guest at a sumptuous board,
Where Jesus has not had a call.

CHORUS.

Jesus, my Lord! Jesus my King!
Down at thy feet I fall;

Jesus, my Savior, my Refuge, my Friend,
Jesus, my Lord, my all.