The Loom of Life.

LL day, all night, I can hear the jar
Of the loom of life, and near and far
It thrills with its deep and muffled sound,
As tireless the wheels go always round.

Busily, ceaselessly, goes the loom,

In the light of day and the midnight's gloom,
And the wheels are turning early and late,
And the wool is wound in the warp of fate.

Click, click!-there's the thread of love woven in,

Click, click!-another of wrong and sin;
What a checkered thing this life will be
When we see it unrolled in eternity!

When shall this wonderful web be done?
In a thousand years, perhaps, or one;
Or to-morrow! Who knoweth? Not thou or I; .
But the wheels turn on and the shuttles fly.

Ah, sad-eyed weavers, the years are slow,

But each one is nearer the end, I know;

And soon the last thread shall be woven in

God grant it be love instead of sin.

Are we spinners of good in this life-web-say?
Do we furnish the weaver a thread each day?
It were better, oh my friends, to spin
A beautiful thread, than a thread of sin.

Press On!

RESS on! surmount the rocky steeps,
Climb boldly o'er the torrent's arch:
He fails alone who feebly creeps,

He wins who dares the hero's march.

Be thou a hero! let thy might

Tramp on eternal snows its way,
And, through the ebon walls of night,
Hew down a passage unto day.

Press on! if once and twice thy feet
Slip back and stumble, harder try;
From him who never dreads to meet
Danger and death, they're sure to fly.

To coward ranks the bullet speeds,
While on their breast who never quail,
Gleams guardian of chivalric deeds,
Bright courage, like a coat of mail.

4

Press on! if fortune play thee false

To-day, to-morrow she'll be true; Whom now she sinks, she now exalts,Taking old gifts and granting new, The wisdom of the present hour

Makes up for follies past and gone: To weakness strength succeeds, and power From frailty springs-Press on! press on!

Therefore, press on! and reach the goal, And gain the prize, and wear the crown: Faint not! for to the steadfast soul

Come wealth, and honor, and renown.

To thine own self be true, and keep

Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil;

Press on! and thou shalt surely reap

A heavenly harvest for thy toil.

The Two Anchors,

T was a gallant sailor man

Had just come home from sea,
And as I passed him in town
He sang, "Ahoy!" to me.

I stopped, and saw I knew the man-
Had known him from a boy;
And so I answered, sailor-like,
"Avast!" to his "Ahoy!"

I made a song for him one day-
His ship was then in sight-
"The little anchor on the left,
The great one on the right."

I gave his hand a hearty grip,
"So you are back again?
They say you have been pirating
Upon the Spanish Main;

Or was it some rich Indiaman

You robbed of all her pearls?

Of course you have been breaking hearts Of poor Kanaka girls!" "Wherever I have been," he said,

"I kept my ship in sight

"The little anchor on the left,

The great one on the right.'"

"I heard last night that you were in; I walked the wharves to-day,

But saw no ship that looked like yours.
Where does the good ship lay?

I want to go on board of her."
"And so you shall," said he,
"But there are many things to do

When one comes home from sea; You know the song you made for me? I sing it morn and night—

"The little anchor on the left,

The great one on the right!'"

"But how's your wife and little one?"
"Come home with me," he said,
"Go on, go on; I follow you."

I followed where he led,

He had a pleasant little house;

The door was open wide,

And at the door the dearest face

A dearer one inside!

He hugged his wife and child; he sang

His spirits were so light

"The little anchor to the left,

The great one to the right."

'Twas supper-time, and we sat downThe sailor's wife and child,

And he and I; he looked at them,

And looked at me and smiled,