Morning maid! whose day began With the nobler life in man, Sun-crowned souls reveal thy fame, Sacred hopes thy laws proclaim.

O Father! hear for her our prayer, Bid her voice Thine own decree, Let all her growth Thyself declare, Guard the light supplied by Thee!

MY BEST POEM.

You ask of mine the poem I love best, And promise it shall have the larger light; Alas, alas! far, far beyond the rest I love the poem that I mean to write!

THE RICHEST TIME OF LIFE

MYRA GOODWIN PLANTZ. 1856-1914.

From SONGS OF QUIET HOURS. Copyright, by Pres. Samuel Plantz and reprinted by permission of The Methodist Book Concern.

This poem was written to her mother on her seventy-seventh birthday.

The spring is fair; it has its flowers, Its happy time of sun and showers; Then summer cometh as a queen, With roses on her robe of green; But autumn brings the crimson leaves And wealth of golden, garnered sheaves, And grapes that purple on the vine, With spring and summer in their wine.

The morning comes with rosy light That dims the candles of the night, And wakes the nestling birds to song, And sends to toil the brave and strong.

Mid-day and afternoon are spent In search of gold or heart-content; Then comes the sunset's glow and rest, And this of all the days is best.

The baby comes with Paradise Still shining in his smiling eyes, And childhood passes like a dream, As lilies float upon a stream.

Then youth comes with its restless heat, And manhood, womanhood, replete With care and pleasure, joy and strife, Lead to the richest part of life.

And it has reached these, mother dear, The sunny, mellow time of year; Though with a climate of thine own, In constant sun thy soul has grown.

Time counts not helpful, happy years-- He only numbers sighs and tears; So rich in blessings, strong in truth, Thou hast not age, but richer youth.

WAYSIDE FLOWERS.

By CARRIE CARLTON.

(Mrs. M. H. Chamberlain.)

A SPELL IS ON MY SPIRIT

A spell is on my spirit And I cannot, cannot write, All the teeming thoughts of glory That crowd my soul tonight.

They come in quick succession, Like the phantoms in a dream; And they surge in shadowy billows, Like the mist upon a stream.

Oh! had I but the language, I would give these visions birth; I would shadow their glorious meaning, And their untold, hidden worth.

They were raised by wild thanksgiving, For a blessed answered prayer; And their fleeting, changing beauty, Held my spirit breathless there.

I had pleaded, oh, how earnest For one precious, precious boon; For one gift to cheer this bosom, That was desolate so soon.

Now I know my prayer is answered, And my soul would fain adore, Him whose promise is forever, And is faithful evermore.

UNDER THE PINES.

By ADA F. MOORE. Published by West and Co., Milwaukee, 1875.

LINES FOR THE TIMES

There's a certain class of people In this sublunary sphere-- (And if I'm not mistaken, You'll find them even here), Who think the rare old precept To the old Athenians given, And esteemed so full of wisdom That they deemed it came from Heaven,--

In this glorious age of progress Has become quite obsolete; So they choose another motto, For these latter times more meet.

It is "know thyself" no longer-- So they say, and who can doubt them-- But "Mortal, know thy neighbors, And everything about them!"

To attain this worthy object, All other cares forego; To gain this glorious knowledge, You cannot stoop too low.

Heed not the ancient croakers, Who ask, with solemn phiz-- "Is it anybody's business What another's business is?"

No! we'd join the glorious party, That to giant size has grown, To mind our neighbor's business, And "Know nothing" of our own, Hurrah! for the Rights of Meddlers!

For the freedom of our day!

For the glorious Age of Progress!

And for Young America!

MEMORIES OF THE WISCONSIN AND OTHER POEMS.

By HARRY LATHROP. Published by Review Print, Flint, Mich., in 1903.

THE MAN WHO LAUGHS

He loves to make another laugh And laugh himself as well, Nor any one around one-half So good a joke can tell.

The less of pain a man can give, The more of joy he scatters; The more excuse for him to live-- Apart from weightier matters.

Then emulate the men who laugh, Good health and mirth are catching, The wine of joy is ours to quaff, Life's duties while despatching.

OVER THE DIVIDE.

And other Verses. By MARION MANVILLE. Copyright, 1887, by the Author.

PRELUDE

But one of a thousand voices, Oh, how can one voice be heard, When ninety and nine and nine hundred Are chanting the same old word?

But one of a thousand singers, What song can I sing, oh pray, That is not sung over and over, And over again today?

VISIONS OF A CITIZEN.

By PROFESSOR J. J. BLAISDELL, (1827-1896), Beloit College.

Copyright, 1897. J. A. Blaisdell.

EXTRACT FROM AN ADDRESS (p. 10).

One cannot be a good citizen of Wisconsin without being a good citizen of America. One cannot be a good citizen of America without being a good citizen of the Commonwealth of all nations. One cannot be a good citizen of the world Commonwealth without being a good citizen of the Universal Kingdom of God's moral order. Wisconsin citizenship, magnificent lesson to be learned!