58 Wisconsin State Horticultural Society. 



So, ever since the world was new, 



Who climbs to heaven the nearest, 

 Sees, by the glory shining through, 



God's earthward plans the clearest. 



And o'er the strange disparity 



Of humin faith and failing, 

 Sees Christ's diviner charity 



The seamless mantle trailing." 



After the humanitarian had retired, in the midst of due anplause, 

 we called upon the Mother Superior. Now, the Mother Superior 

 was not a mother at all, as the world counts motherhood ; but hers 

 was that higher motherhood that embraces in its holy sympathies 

 all the Lord's little ones ; that reaches out in true maternal help 

 and pity to all the poor and suffering, and. although he that would 

 have been her husband fell in the great battle of Chickamauga, it 

 might be said of her as of the little gray nun who died in Paris a 

 short time ago : 



"She hath more children than she that hath an husband." 



And here are the Mother Superior's words, as nearly as the poet 

 can give them : 



You do not know, O aaxious mother-heart, 



Too full of care and love's divine unrest 

 What ecstacy they hold, what better part, 



Is hers who folds her babe unto her breast. 



You pine sometimes for quiet and for rest, 



Unbroken by the din of childish play, 

 And deem that stately mansion doubly blest 



That rears its vacant panes across the way. 



You fret at little finger marks that show 

 Forbidden handling of some volume fair; 



You find rude footmarks ever, high and low. 

 And broken playthings scattered everywhere. 



You moan in nights of weariness or pain : 



' A woman's lot is bitterest to bear," 

 And think, if you could live your life again, 



The wiser choice would give the lesser care. 



You think, perhaps, of some supreme desire, 

 Some young ambition, hardest to repress, 



