The gospel whose glad promises atone

The golden circle of Humanity Is narrowed to themselves. For them alone Was Earth created, joyous, fair and free, The realm where each the other would enthrone, Sole sovereign whose dear sway all things should own In glad obedience—egotism …

Then on her soul first broke the fatal truth That flashed, a flaming sword, before the gates Of the lost Eden of her blighted youth.

And legends wild and fairy tales they read; Stringing bright gems of Fancy on Truth's golden thread.

"My dear little daughter," said he, "you cannot be so glad to come back as my arms and my heart will be to receive you."

"And when we die, All’s over that is ours; and life burns on Through other lovers, other lips," said I —"Heart of my heart, our heaven is now, is won!" "We are earth’s best, that learnt her lesson here, Life is our cry. We have kept the …

Lincoln and Douglass; Douglass and Lincoln! May their names ever be welded into one memory in the hearts of every Negro in the land!