J3ay JLeaf—Faithfulness, 
OLD in the earth—and fifteen wild Decembers, 
From those brown hills, have melted into spring 
Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers 
After such years of change and suffering ! 
Sweet love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, 
While the world’s tide is bearing me along; 
Other desires and other hopes beset me, 
Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong! 
No later light has lightened up my heaven, 
No second morn has ever shone for me, 
All my life’s bliss from thy dear life was given. 
All my life’s bliss is in the grave with thee. 
Emily Bronte. 
F^ssop— F > ur\i TY ' 
S N the cruel fire of sorrow 
Cast thy heart, do not faint or wail ; 
Let thy hand be firm and steady, 
Do not let thy spirit quail : 
But wait till the trial is over, 
And take thy heart again; 
For as gold is tried by fire, 
So a heart must be tried by pain ! 
Adelaide Procter. 
252 
