While in a voice so soft and low
    She said:  “I will; it shall be so.” 
    And then they homeward took their way,
    While birds were singing sweet and gay,
    Now oft they bless that day in June
    When brooks and birds were all atune.

GOLD WORSHIPPERS.

BY L.V.  HALL.

    Within a faded volume, dim and old,
      I find this musty maxim tersely given: 
    “The magic key to human hearts is gold,
      But love unlocks the crystal gates of heaven.”

    Our homes are not so happy as of old,
      Our hearts are not so merry as of yore,
    We find that nought can purchase love but gold,
      That virtue begs a pittance at the door.

    There was a time when Beauty bore the sway;
      There was a time when Wit the world controlled;
    There was a time when Valor won the day;
      But now the noble knight that wins, is Gold.

    The ancient Ghebers worshipped light and fire;
      The Brahmins bowed to gods of wood and stone;
    But now, ’neath marble dome and gilded spire,
      The deity adored is gold alone.

    It overlays the altar and the cross;
      It dignifies the monarch and the clown;
    The wealth of moral worth is counted dross;
      The million miser wears the golden crown.

    ’Tis time this mad idolatry should cease;
      ’Tis time her prophets and her priests were slain;
    Let earth do homage to the Prince of Peace,
      And the reign of gold shall be the golden reign.

    The Christ came not with pomp and princely show;
      His followers were lowly and despised;
    He courted not the high, nor shunned the low;
      A very God in human flesh disguised.

    He brought a marvelous message from above: 
      A gift of grace and pardon from the King. 
    He claimed no tithe or tribute but of love—­
      A penitent and contrite heart to bring.

    He banished brokers from the house of prayer;
      He raised the dead and made the dumb to speak;
    Unsealed the blinded eye, unstopped the ear;
      He fed the poor and lifted up the weak.

    The way to life, He said, is plain and straight,
      It leads to joy, and peace, and heavenly light
    The way to death is through a golden gate
      And broad the way that leads to endless night.

    Shall we accept the sacrifice he made
      And enter in the Shepherd’s sheltering fold? 
    Or, like the Judas who his Lord betrayed,
      Sell soul and hope of Heaven for miser’s gold?

    Say, which is best, true piety or gold? 
      This metal worship or the living God? 
    Ye cannot have them both, so we are told,
      See to it then which pathway shall be trod.

    Array your idol in his robes of state! 
      Set up his image on his golden throne! 
    Throw open wide the temple’s gilded gate,
      And thus proclaim that gold is God alone!