Flowers.

When flowers about our pathway grow And roses on the hedgerows blow , Sweet summer . And as its perfumed breath doth rise , In silent homage to the skies Up-stealing . A thousand memories forth start , Long-hidden pictures in the heart Revealing .

Where lilac chains with scented links , Or treasure tuft of red clove pinks , Or heather . 'Mongst which we played , fine stories tell Of parted ones who once did dwell Together . Again the feathery seeds away

Are puffed to tell the time of day , Whilst golden Hued cowslips into halls we twine , Or part the horns in columbine Enfolden 1

Whilst through the woods the whole clay long , The cuckoo sings an idle song , Awaking The echo of a dulcet peal , That rang ere hearts began to feel Heartbreaking .

And so it comes to pass that we With half a sigh the flowers see , Half gladness . And round our hearts they twine and twine , Until their beauty makes divine . Our sadness .

The Work Of Nature In The Months.

THE WORK OF NATURE IN THE MONTHS .

BY BRO . EEV . W . TEBBS .

II . —AUGUST . " Crown'd with , the sickle and the vrhe & ten . sheaf , Rich Autumn , nodding o ' er the yellow plain , Comes jovial on " AY , and so too , in his own set time , does Winter follow . Sad , yet wholesome thought ; for if this world were all bri ghtness and sunshine , this life all happiness

The Work Of Nature In The Months.

and pleasure , we should forget that there is another towards which , whether we will or no , we are steadily yet surely pressing onwards ; so , too , is it well , that the year has its decadence and death , else were its lessons incomplete ; and better still that it lives and dies , yet dies and lives againfor

, in this life from death we see our second life revealed as in the seasons' unceasing round we view complete the circle of eternity . Thus ever , year by year , as the years roll round , we read hi Nature ' s book our

own life-story : let us ponder then awhile over the page wide-open at harvest-tide , and glancing over the ocean of waving gold , glean the lesson of our lives : back where dead Winter gives birth , to living Spring , and the sprouting corn-germs speak to us of a life begun , a life that never ends ; tenderly at first does the bosom of mother-earth cradle the infant blade which

bids fair to give development to the fullgrown ear ; many a check does the young plant experience , finding even in these early clays that often the cold embrace of the seemingly adverse snow only serves as a cloak to shield its , as yet , too precocious growth from the otherwise fatal tooth of

the still wintry frosts ; hy-and-bye the spring-tide showers and the growing heat mature its stem , so that though sorely oppressed by the hot struggles of its siminierlnanhood , it can yet put forth its fruitful ear ; and now it is ripe for harvestand

, with failing strength and enfeebled frame , its honoured and gold-crowned head bows before the sickle of the reaper Death Sad thought ? Nay , fidl of joy ! for does it not go to fill the [ garner of the blest 1 and does it not afford the seed of future

generations of the just , as well as the food of the lessons left behind of a well-spent life to those wearily plodding along the homeward road . Stay ! yet one other lesson ' ere we onward

pass" The gleaners spread around , and here and there , Spike after spike , their sparing harvest pick "Surely they ever urge upon us anew tile counsels of Him who , as the reward of faith and filial duty springing from our own gleaner Ruth , bade us " Gather up everyfragment , that nothing of His be lost ;" a counsel that wo truly follow as we gaze