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Humble, like that meek Rose,

Mine offering, friend, to thee;
And may its leaves disclose
As sweet a purity!

When weary hours oppress,

And peace is vainly sought,

This flower will gently bless
With its celestial thought.

My humble Rose! my lowly Rose !
Be thine the power to banish woes!

THE

ROSE OF SHARON.

HOME.

BY A. B. GROSH.

THE author of "Home, sweet home," by that
simple and affecting song, struck a powerful chord
of the human heart with a master hand; and, from
city to city, from hill to hill and valley to valley,
from nation to nation and shore to shore, its vi-
brations have echoed and reëchoed, until almost
every civilized people in the world is singing, in
its mother tongue, “ Home - home — sweet, sweet
home!" The love of some spot where our cares
may be dissipated, and our labors find repose;
where our affections may linger ere they go forth
into the wilderness-world, seeking a reciprocal
love; and where they may return, after their
weary and disappointed pilgrimage, sure of find-
ing a solace for their woes, and sympathy in their
sorrows; this affection of the human heart is

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