Crowned Heads.

An elderly couple sit together in a small cottage room in front of a hearth. The woman is seated in full view closest to the hearth. She wears a shawl and a bonnet and rests her arms in her lap. The man is depicted sitting in profile view, positioned toward his wife and the hearth. He holds a book open at the table. A cloth garment with frayed edges drapes over the back of his chair. The room in which they sit is sparsely decorated. It has one gridded window, through which a plant is visible, and a single candlestick holder positioned on the mantle. There is a simple portière, suggesting an entrance to another room. 1/2-page illustration contained within a single-ruled border.

Below. A little room with rugless floor, And the Winter blast, As it whistles past, Piercing in at the slender door. In the window-sill a plant or two, Thriving as plants are apt to do In a cottage frame, Where the light of day Hath its wildest play, And no curtains send it out again. A table bare, and one old book, In which their eyes grow bright to look ; A smouldering fire, and two big chairs, A bed for the feeble, brought down the stairs. And there, in the last faint flicker of life, A grey old man and his helpless wife. Above. A new-turned grave of still decay— And a home of spirits away—away— A blissful home, so passing fair As none may tell who have not been there ;— A human form with scars too deep For a tearless gaze, if spirits weep— His riven brow with triumph crown’d— And a countless host of subjects round, Bowed in the hush of love profound ! A voiceless choir, a waiting throng, Ready to burst in instant song. Soon as the word “ Come forth,” is given, And their bodies rise to their souls in heaven ! Princely among the princely race, And near the King, in bright array, Sunn’d with the glory of his face, Who are they ? Who but the helpless, aged poor, Whose coffins pass’d from a cottage door ! H. Mary T.