The Atlanta constitution. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1885-19??, 1888-06-12


And lutter of wings is in the air,
And my eyes with happy tears are dim,
As watch, in the tall Old trees cleft limb,
busy mother bird, that there
Fashions her nest of moss and hair
Vhe days go by, and the leaves grow green
On the tall old tree where the nest is made:
The mother bird folds her tireless WINGS
And my heart as watch her, sings and sings
It's happy song and is not afraid
For the sweetest JOY is q joy delayed.
u-sUMMER.
Vhe patient brooding days are Ger
There's stir of lie in the soft brown nest
And share it too, the mothers joy
When my weak arms hold my tiny boy
And gather him closely to my breast
When he softly murmurs, and sinks to rest
o, the round green world, and the clear blue sky,
How fair they are in these sunny days!
New cares may come, ana fresh demands
On theweery heart, and feeble hands,
But strength cones too, and song OF praise
Goes up with the birds sweet morning lays
HI-AUTUMN.
The leaves are dying and turning brown
The red sun peers through the morning mist;
And mist clouds over my boys blue eyes,
That once were clear as the summer skies
o. the throbbing pulse in the tiny wrist
And the fever flush on The cheek kissedl
The mother has taught her brood to fly;
They must fee away to warmer climate,
From the coming chill of the Winter tune,
The thought holds back my heart-sck cry,
SHOW can live if my boy must der!
Iv-wINTER.
An empty nest on a tossing bough,
When the eddying snow flakes round it sweep,
And they fall, know, on tiny mound
In corner mock of the church yard ground,
Whore IN habV lies in his last
And away to my quiet room creep.
For the heart will ache, and be numb and cold,
frozen by grief, like eartl's hard clay,
Though Our Father careth, and knoweth best
When each bird must fly from its mothers nest
And We know they are singing far away,
In the golden light of fairer day
Good Housekeeping
THERE is a peculiar charm attached to read
ing old letters, almost amounting to fascina-
ton. One likes to open the crumbling enve-
lope, tenderly unfold the crisp yellow paper,
and read again the thoughts that were fresh
years ago. How warm the expression of at
tachment-what a tender sentiment of love
underlies it! You could not doubt the fealty
Of the heart that dictated the lines you again
read after the lapse of years. Possibly the
hand that traced those words in all the fervor
of its love, lies cold and dead. Or most likely
the heart that then felt all the hand wrote, is
'dead to you"-it only thinks of you and the
love of the past with calm indifference-if it
gives you any thought at all. 1t is humiliat-
ing, but one feels comfort in reading an old
letter-when one who loved us in the past has
forgotten us-to feel we have been more faith
full than the writer. 1t would sometimes be
singular reading to compare the sentiments of
gears ago and those our friends feel now.
o
In visiting very beautiful cemetery few
years ago was attracted by an epitaph that
made an impression I will never forget.
Among many beautiful shafts of marble that
marked the resting places of the earth's rich
and great, there was one nearly hidden by the
weeds, blaokened by age, the initials nearly
gone, but on the leaning slab could be traced
these words, nearly worn out by time: "She
made her home happy" We all crave dis
tinction; there is no thought more humiliat-
3ng than to reflect that we will soon be among
the worlds forgotten dead-we would all like
our names to live But better far have that
humble epitaph left in the hearts of those
whom we love, than to be buried at Westmin-
lister Abbey, and be of earths greatest. A
friend who was with me exclaimed: ST
would willingly have the 'plough-share' over
my grave so that it might be utterly forgotten,
my name perish from among the sons of men,
and leave behind me the precious incense of
such an epitaph, than to be of eartil's greatest
to have my fame go resounding down the cor
Fidors of time without it. That is the highest
ambition" A woman's life, no matter what
have been its failings and imper rections; no
matter if she has achieven nothing great, at
tanned no distinction in the outside world, has
not been failure, if it can be said of her
''She made her home happy"