GLORY FLOWER 
YOU ARE MORE THAN BEAUTIFUL. 
To 
All joy, all hope, go with you, sweet, 
And though too soon we part, 
Be summer round your airy feet, 
And summer in your heart. 
The dimple dancing on your cheek, 
Your dark, deep, Spanish eyes, 
Still win to warm their loveliness, 
Stray sunbeams from the skies. 
And flowers of Thought and Fancy, dear, 
And founts of Feeling true, 
But make the glory of the year 
A sister unto you! 
F. S. O. 
MARY. 
I know a star — whose light illumes 
The wildest gloom with warmth and glory; 
I know a rose —whose blush outblooms 
The loveliest lip in olden story. 
I know a lute —whose warble low r , 
Might lure an angel down to listen; 
I know a pearl —whose tender glow 
Is dearer than all gems that glisten. 
And who this treasure rich and rare, 
Whose witchery every moment varies? 
The smile'—the lip—the voice—the tear— 
The star, rose, lute and pearl are Mary's. 
F. S. O. 
