WE SHALL KNOW.

ANNIE HERBERT.

HEN the mists have rolled in splendor
From the beauty of the hills,

And the sunshine, warm and tender,
Falls in kisses on the rills,

We may read love's shining letter
In the rainbow of the spray,-
We shall know each other better

When the mists have cleared away.

If we err, in human blindness,
And forget that we are dust;
If we miss the law of kindness
When we struggle to be just,
Snowy wings of peace shall cover

All the plain that hides away,-
When the weary watch is over,

And the mists have cleared away.

When the mists have risen above us,
As our Father knows his own,
Face to face with those that love us,
We shall know as we are known;

Love, beyond the orient meadows Floats the golden fringe of day, Heart to heart, we bide the shadows, Till the mists have cleared away.

We shall know as we are known,
Nevermore to walk alone,

In the dawning of the morning,
When the mists have cleared away.

THE FREE MIND.

W. L. GARRISON.

High walls and huge the body may confine,
And iron gates obstruct the prisoner's gaze,
And massive bolts may baffle his design,

And vigilant keepers watch his devious ways: Yet scorns the immortal mind this base control! No chains can bind it, and no cell inclose: Swifter than light, it flies from pole to pole,

And in a flash from earth to heaven it goes!
It leaps from mount to mount; from vale to vale
It wanders, plucking honeyed fruits and flowers;
It visits home, to hear the fireside tale,

Or, in sweet converse, pass the joyous hours.
"Tis up before the sun, roaming afar,
And, in its watches, wearies every star!

THE PRIDE OF BATTERY B.

OUTH Mountain towered upon our right, far off

the river lay;

And over on the wooded hight we held their lines at bay.

At last the muttering guns were still; the day died slow and wan.

At last the gunners' pipes did fill, the sargeant's yarns began.

When, as the wind a moment blew aside the fragrant flood Our briarwoods raised, within our view a little maiden

stood.

A tiny tot of six or seven, from fireside fresh she seemed, (Of such a little one in heaven one soldier often dreamed.)

And as we stared her little hand went to her curly head In grave salute: "And who are you?" at length the sargeant said.

"And where's your home?" he growled again. She lisped out "Who is me?

Why, don't you know? I'm little Jane, the Pride of Battery B.