25 SEPTEMBER 1897, Page 14

FROM THE SONG-BOOK OF BETHIA HA_RDACRE- ON, on and on

the millions press, The prize for few all would possess ;

They toil, they seek, they strive, they crave,--,

The end no guerdon, but the grave.

God grant each soul some aim that may Outlive the perishable clay.

ELLA FULLER MAITLAND.