The gates ajar. By Elizabeth Stuart Phelps.

176 The Gates Ajar.
Where the bond is never severed,Partings, claspings, sob and moan,
Midnight waking, twilight weeping,
Heavy noontide, - all are done;
Where the child has found its mother;
Where the mother finds the child;
Where dear families are gathered,
That were scattered on the wild;....
Where the hidden wound is healed;
Where the blighted life reblooms;
Where the smitten heart the freshness
Of its buoyant youth resumes;....
Where we find the joy of loving,
As we never loved before, -
Loving on, unchilled, unhindered,
Loving once, forevermore."....
3cth.
Aunt Winifred was weeding her day-lilies
this morning, when the gate creaked timidly,
and then swung noisily, and in walked Abinadab Quirk, with a bouquet of China pinks in the
button-hole of his green-gray linen coat. He
had taken evident pains to smarten himself up
a little, for his hair was combed into two horizontal dabs over his ears, and the green-gray
coat and blue-checked shirt-sleeves were quite
clean; but he certainly is the most uncouth
specimen of six feet five that it has ever been
my privilege to behold. I feel sorry for him
though. I heard Meta Tripp laughing at hint