Ye mourners, be strong, be strong! Sing them a lullaby-song! They gave-thy men so brave- Themselves in a glorious trying, now richa nd poor are lying, Engulphed in a common gave.

For them no sombre trappings-each in his hero wrappings- The cloak that Character wove- Had, stripped by tragic fate, else naked appeared at the Gate Who toll was a deed of love. Though they are silent lying, their deed is crying, crying- Its voice all peoples have stirred- And the "purse-proud millionaire" proved he could do and dare Why duty's call was heard.

Think not of the page of dying, not of the heroes lying Hidden beneath the wave!" But of the day of wooing-and of their glorious doing- They died--the weak to save! God of Thy stricken people! whilst many a church and steeple Is tolling a knell for the dead- Speak to the hearts of the weepers, the wives and babes of the sleepers, Of angels who guard their bed.

God of the mighty waters! a lesson they have taught us, Those rich and poor who gave- (King in a courage holy-) for women and children, wholly Their lives they yield, to save. Ye rich, in a common sorrow, think of the needy-morrow For thy poorer brethren's wives- And so a chain of healing clasps each, in holy scaling, To the heroes who gave their lives.

Bearing a burden true some women must work and rue, Yet work helps ease the smart- Others, in seeming ease, doing the thing they please, May carry a broken heart. Those who have bravely striven, resting in sleep Godgiven, We take their burdens up- Their last, most sacred trust, we will accept, we must- Thus share love's sacred cup. Pour forth a solemn dirge for those beneath the surge Of a silence fathoms deep- Whisper, O Holy Dove, "Safe in the heart of Love They sleep-thy heroes sleep."

GERTRUDE E. WILLIAMS.