There is no carpet upon the floor;

The wind whistles in through the cracks of the door : One might reckon her miseries now by the score ;

But who feels an interest in one so poor?

Yet she is our sister!

Once she was blooming and young and fair,

With bright blue eyes and auburn hair :
Now the rose is eaten with cankered care,

And her poor face is marked with a grim despair,—
Our poor sister!

When at early morning, to rest her head,
She throws herself on her weary bed,
Longing to sleep the sleep of the dead,

Since youth and love and health are fled, –
Pity our sister.

But the bright sun shines on her and me,
And on mine and hers, as on thine and thee;
And whatever our lot in life may be,
Whether of low or high degree,-

Still she's our sister, always our sister!
Pity her, succor her, pray for our sister!

Household Words.

NOT TO MYSELF ALONE.

"Not to myself alone,"

The little opening flower, transported, cries, -
"Not to myself alone I bud and bloom :

With fragrant breath the breezes I perfume,
And gladden all things with my rainbow dies.
The bee comes sipping, every eventide,
His dainty fill ;

The butterfly within my cup doth hide
From threatening ill."

"Not to myself alone,"

The circling star, with honest pride, doth boast, "Not to myself alone I rise and set :

I write upon night's coronal of jet

His power and skill who formed our myriad host; A friendly beacon at heaven's open gate,

I gem the sky,

That man might ne'er forget, in every fate,
His home on high."

"Not to myself alone,"

The heavy-laden bee doth murmuring hum,
"Not to myself alone, from flower to flower,
I rove the wood, the garden, and the bower,
And to the hive at weary evening come.

For man, for man, the luscious food I pile
With busy care,

Content if I repay my ceaseless toil
With scanty share."

"Not to myself alone,"

The soaring bird, with lusty pinion, sings,— "Not to myself alone I raise my song:

I cheer the drooping with my warbling tongue,
And bear the mourner on my viewless wings.
I bid the hymnless churl my anthem learn,
And God adore ;

I call the worldling from his dross to turn,
And sing and soar."

"Not to myself alone!"

O man! forget not thou — earth's honored priest,
Its tongue, its soul, its lip, its pulse, its heart-
In earth's great chorus to sustain thy part!
Chiefest of guests at love's ungrudging feast,
Play not the niggard; spurn thy native clod,
And self disown:

Live to thy neighbor, live unto thy God;
Not to thyself alone!

Selected.

IV.

THE CUP OF HELP.