[TO BE CONTINUED.]
THE SWEETENER.
Spring blossom, rose of June and autumn-cluster
Appeal alike unto the bloom of health,
In whose spontaneous, overflowing lustre
Is half the secret of the season's wealth.
The pallid cheek may warm to apple-flushes,
The fevered lip kiss fondly sweets of June,
The languid palate leap to fruitage luscious,
Yet weary of their day before the noon.
'Tis laughing Health, with an unhindered fountain
Of joy upbubbling from her being's core,
Whose lavish life embraces vale or mountain,
And drains delight at every opened door.
Mary B. Dodge.