[Written for the Sentinel.]

LOVE'S REFLECTION

O wondrous name, yet oft abusedBy those who know not what thou art,So often do we long for loveAnd think it cometh from the heart!This name is freely on the lipsOf men and women, young and old.To some it is a precious thing,While some would barter it for gold.'Tis said love fadeth like a dream,'Tis also said, love is supreme.

Its name we heard in youthful days—Who has not known a mother's love?And yet some seek it in the mire,While others bid us look above.A priceless jewel, can it beThat many irksome find its bond,While others seeking never find?O love! methinks thou art beyondThis dream of mortal sense that weCall life, and yet it cannot be.

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FROM OUR EXCHANGES
September 14, 1912
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