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From the dear wives who cheer their home ;

Whose hero souls cast fear away

When battling in a rightful fray;
Who speak the truth with dying breath
Undaunted by approaching death,
Their lives illumed with beacon light
To guide their brothers' steps aright;
Who loving all, to all endeared,
Fearless of all by none are feared ;
To whom the world with all therein,
Dear as themselves, is more than kin;
Who yield to others, wisely meek,
The honours which they scorn to seek;
Who toil that

and hate may cease,
And lure embittered foes to peace;
Who serve their God, the laws obey,
And earnest, faithful, work and pray ;
To these, the bounteous, pure, and true,
Is highest glory justly due.

rage

Mahabharata.

FEED THE POOR.

If thou would win the dear reward

Which only virtue earns,

Waste not thy wealth upon the lord

Who gift for gift returns.
Not with the rich thy treasures share;

Give aid to those who need ;

And, with the gold thy wants can spare,

The poor and hungry feed.
Be sure that those who would receive

Deserve and crave thy care ;

And ponder, ere thy hands relieve,

The how, and when, and where.

THE WISE SCHOLAR.

I hold that scholar truly wise

Who schools his heart and lips and eyes :

Who can as worthless clay behold
The treasures of another's gold :
Who looks upon his neighbour's wife
As upon her who gave him life :
Who feels as for himself for all

That live on earth, both great and small.

THE END.

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