THE MODEL CHURCH,

Well, wife, I've found the model church! I worshipped there to-day;

It made me think of good old times before my hair was

gray;

The meeting-house was fixed up more than they were

years ago,

But then I felt when I went in it wasn't built for show.

The sexton didn't seat me way back by the door,
He knew that I was old and deaf, as well as old and

poor;

He must have been a Christian, for he led me boldly through

The long aisles of that crowded church to find a pleas

ant pew.

I wish you'd heard the singing; it had the old time

ring;

The preacher said, with trumpet voice, "Let all the people sing;"

The tune was Coronation, and the music upward rolled, Till I thought I heard the angels striking all their harps of gold.

My heart seemed melt away, my spirit caught the fire; I joined my feeble trembling voice with that melodious

choir,

And sang as in my youthful days, "Let angels pros

Bring forth the royal diadem, and crown Him Lord of

all,"

I tell you, wife, it did me good to sing that song once

more;

I felt like some wrecked mariner, who gets a glimpse of shore;

I almost wanted to lay down this weather-beaten form, And anchor in the blessed port, forever from the storm.

The preaching-well, I can't just tell all that the preacher said,

I know it wasn't written, I know it wasn't read;
He hadn't time to read it, for the lightning of his eye
Went flashing 'long from pew to pew, nor passed a sin-
ner by.

The sermon wasn't flowery, 'twas simple gospel truth,
It fitted poor old men like me, it fitted hopeful youth;
'Twas full of consolation for weary hearts that bleed,
'Twas full of invitations to Christ, and not to any creed.

The preacher made sin hideous in Gentiles and in Jews; He shot the golden sentences down in the finest pews; And though I can't see very well-I saw the falling tear,

That told me hell was some way off, and heaven very

near.

How swift the golden moments fled within that holy

place,

How brightly beamed the light of heaven from ever happy face;

Again I longed for that sweet time, when friend shall welcome friend,

"Where congregations ne'er break up, and Sabbaths have no end."

I hope to meet that minister-that congregation, too, In the dear home beyond the stars that shine from heaven's blue;

I doubt not I'd remember beyond life's evening gray The happy hour of worship in that model church to-day. Dear wife, the fight will soon be fought, the victory be

won,

The shining goal is just ahead, the race is almost run; O'er the river we are nearing, they are thronging to the

shore,

To shout our safe arrival where the weary weep no more. Will. Carleton.

A DAY OF SUMMER BEAUTY.

Out in the golden summer air,
Amid the purple heather,
A woman sat with drooping head,
And hands close knit together;
Never a bitter word she said,

Though all her life looked cold and dead,
Cold in the glowing haze that lay
Over the fair green earth that day,
That day of summer beauty.

Too dulled her soul, too worn to feel
Summer delight acutely;

While earth was praising God aloud,
Her patience praised him mutely.
Her narrow life of thought and care,*
Not life to live, but life to bear,

Contented that her soul was sad,

While all God's soulless things were glad,

That day of summer beauty.

And where she stayed, a dusty speck

In gorse and heather glory,
A weary spirit watched and read

The pathos of her story;

A spirit doubt opprest and worn

Had found another more forlorn,
That trustful stayed, nor sought to guess
Life's meanings, which are fathomless,
Through all the summer beauty.

Good Words.

A WOMAN'S CONCLUSIONS.

I said, if I might go back again

To the very hour and place of my birth, Might have my life whatever I chose,

And live it in any part of the earth;

Put perfect sunshine into my sky;
Banish the shadows of sorrow and doubt;
Have all my happiness multiplied,
And all my suffering stricken out;

If I could have known in the years now gone, The best that a woman comes to know; Could have had whatever will make her blest, Or whatever she thinks will make her so;

Have found the highest and purest bliss
That the bridal wreath and ring enclose,

And gained the one out of all the world

That my heart, as well as my reason, chose;

Yea, I said, if a miracle such as this

Could be wrought for me at my bidding, still

I would choose to have my past as it is,
And let my future come as it will.

SOME DAY.

Some day, we say, and turn our eyes
Towards the far hills of Paradise.

Some day, some time, a sweet new rest
Shall blossom flower-like in each breast.

Some time, some day, our eye

The faces kept in memory.

shall see

Some day their hands shall clasp our hands,
Just over in the morning lands.

Some day our ear shall hear the song

Of triumph over sin and wrong.

Some day, some time, but oh! not yet,
But we will wait, and not forget

That some day all these things shall be,
And rest be given to you and me.

ENCHANTMENT.

The sails we see on the ocean
Are as white as white can be,
But never one in the harbor
As white as the sails at sea.