THE MUSE OF HISTORY.

Clio with her flickering light And book of valued lore, Comes down the ages dark and bright, Our interest to implore. She walks with glad, majestic mien, Proud of her knowledge gained, E'en while she mourns from having seen Man's life so dulled and pained. Her face with lines of care is wrought, From searching mystery's cause, And dealing with the hidden thought Of nature's subtle laws. Yet still she blushes with new life In sight of actions fine, And pales with anguish at the strife Of evil's dread design. She stops to sing her grandest lays When, in creation's heat, She sees evolved a higher phase Of life's fruitions sweet. 'Twas thus in days of Genesis When man came forth supreme; 'Twas thus in days of Nemesis When Love did dare redeem. And thus 'twill be in future days When out from spirit-laws, Shall be brought forth for lasting praise The ever-great First cause. Then gladly know this wondrous muse Who walks the aisles of Time; And dare not thoughtlessly refuse Her book of lore sublime. For in it is the precious force Of spirit-life divine, Which even through a winding course Leads on to Wisdom's shrine.