A LESSON IN LATIN.

Our Latin books, in motley row, Invite us to our task— Gay Horace, stately Cicero: Yet there's one verb, when once we know, No higher skill we ask: This ranks all other lore above— We've learned "Amare means to love'!"

So, hour by hour, from flower to flower, We sip the sweets of Life: Till, all too soon, the clouds arise, And flaming cheeks and flashing eyes Proclaim the dawn of strife: With half a smile and half a sigh, "Amare! Bitter One!" we cry.

Last night we owned, with looks forlorn, "Too well the scholar knows There is no rose without a thorn"— But peace is made! We sing, this morn, "No thorn without a rose!" Our Latin lesson is complete: We've learned that Love is Bitter-Sweet!