" S. D. M." says: " I am a great admirer of Whit-tier, and have a volume which I thought contained all his poems, but do not find one with that to which you made such pleasant reference in the Hints of your last number. If you think it would not be out of place in your magazine, it might perhaps please others as well as me to give it a place if not too long".

[We are always glad to have ladies interested in our work, and have hunted up the poem which we give herewith. - Ed. G. M].

Oh, sometimes gleams upon our sight Through present wrong, the Eternal Right! And step by step, since time began, We see thesteady gain of man;

That all of good the past hath had Remains to make our own time glad, Our common daily life divine, And every land a Palestine.

We lack hut open eye and ear To find the Orient's marvels here, The still small voice in autumn's hush Yon maple wood the burning bush.

For still the new transcends the old, In signs and tokens manifold; Slaves rise up men, the olive waves With roots deep set in battle graves.

Through the harsh noises of our day A low, sweet prelude finds its way; Through clouds of doubt and creeds of fear A light is breaking, calm and clear.

Henceforth my heart shall sigh no more For olden time and holier shore; God's love and blessing, then and there, Are now, and here, and everywhere.