Eventide

THE CROWN OF INDIVIDUALITY. 489 help; flight — never. Our environment is so largely the radiation of our individuality that we can never truly desert it. Running away from life is merely — a coward's useless alibi. (The closing chapter in this series, "The Dark Valley of Pros- perity," will appear in the May number of the Era; and the first chapter of Little Problems of Married Life, will appear in the June number.) Eventide. (For the Improvement Era.) By the willows in the meadow, where the brooklet murmurs low, They had said their words of parting, words of sadness, years ago. "I am going, little sweetheart, to win fame and fortune fair." Then he kissed the pretty maiden, weeping in the morning there. REFRAIN. Ambition is born of the morning. The battle is fought in the day, In the twilight the wounds are attended And the tears are all kissed away. So await for the twilight, my darling, 'Til the twilight, oh sweetheart, abide; For after the dawn is the day, love, And then comes the eventide. Long and bravely did he struggle, f ^r the gifts he thought so rare, With success he was rewarded; fame and fortune were his share. Then his heart grew cold and heavy, long and dreary seemed the day; For the dearest gift of heaven, he had lightly thrown away. Sad and lone, at last he wandered, to the meadow o'er the lea, Bruised and bleeding, empty-hearted, in the twilight wandered he. Heaven then restored its best gift, answered was his piteous prayer, For he found the lovely woman, true and faithful, waiting there. Lella Marler Hoggan. Lewisvillb, Idaho.