Part 2 — LOVE ON, LOVE EVER. By RUTH LAMB.

How world-worn must have been the weary heart When this sad strain belied its noblest part! What! Bid us cease to love! Why life were pain If this best attribute were given in vain. Cease not to love. O, wherefore shouldst thou scorn The flowers thy path beside, to cull the thorn? Or heed the man who, all unblest with sight, Counsels his fellow-man to shun the light? Gazing around, 'tis ever hard to trace The Maker's image in the Creature's face. Seek it not there. That image wouldst thou prove, Know the Divine gleams through our works of love. If cruel Death a dear one rend away, Let thy love follow; do not with the clay Bury thy heart. Soar higher. Wherefore bow? Yesterday's mortal is immortal now. If thy life's labour meet with scant return, Thou who hast wrought it should'st be last to mourn. Nay more, rejoice. Each unpaid debt of love Is so much treasure garnered up above. Let cold ingratitude bring no dismay, But rather aid thee on thy heavenward way. Work on, love on, aye to increase the debt; Thy God is not unrighteous to forget.