selection, and the kind contributions from her friends." Miss
Proctor's contribution was the first poem in the book and I venture to
publish it as it has never been in print since the first sale. My
friend's face is still beautiful, her mind is as active as when we
first met, her voice has lost none of its charm, and she is the same
dear friend as of yore.

GOLDENROD AND ASTERS

The goldenrod, the goldenrod,
That glows in sun or rain,
Waving its plumes on every bank
From the mountain slope to the main,--
Not dandelions, nor cowslips fine,
Nor buttercups, gems of summer,
Nor leagues of daisies yellow and white,
Can rival this latest comer!

On the plains and the upland pastures
Such regal splendour falls
When forth, from myriad branches green,
Its gold the south wind calls,--
That the tale seems true the red man's god
Lavished its bloom to say,
"Though days grow brief and suns grow cold,
My love is the same for aye."

And, darker than April violets
Or pallid as wind-flowers grow,
Under its shades from hill to meadow