READING THE MILESTONE.

I STOPPED to read the milestone here,
A laggard school-boy, long ago;
I came not far-my home was near--
But ah, now far I longed to go!
Behold a number and a name,

A finger, westward, cut in stone: The vision of a city came,

Across the dust and distance shown.

Around me lay the farms asleep
In hazes of autumnal air,
And sounds that quiet loves to keep
Were heard, and heard not, every-
where.

I read the milestone, day by day:
I yearned to cross the barren bound,
To know the golden Far-away,

To walk the new Enchanted
Ground!

Below, a violet in the dew Breathed through the dark vague perfume; Above, a star in quiet blue Touched with a gracious ray the gloom.

"Sing, friend, of me," the violet sighed,

"That I may haunt your grave with love;" "Sing, friend, of me," the star replied,

"That I may light the dark above."

THE SIGHT OF ANGELS. THE angels come, the angels go, Through open doors of purer air;

mine

fall;

pray you think how warm and sweet

The heart can beat;

pray you think how soon the rose From grave-dust grows.