He spoke, too, of the frailties which her womanhood had marred,
That priceless crown which, she, alas! had sadly failed to guard,
No word of bold denial did that woman dare to plan--
She felt that He who spoke with her was more than mortal man.

And when the twelve disciples returned, their errand done,
They wondered at His converse with that lost and erring one,
But still they asked no question, while she, with thoughtful
mien,
Returned to tell her friends at home of all that she had seen.

Not only for that daughter of Samaria's hot clime--
Child of an ancient people, of a by-gone faith and time--
Was meant the exhortation that from His lips then fell,
But for His Christian children, for us, to-day, as well.

For us, still pure and sparkling, those living waters flow
Of which He told Samaria's child long centuries ago:
Forgetting thoughts of earthly pride, and hopes of worldly gain,
Seek we but once of them to drink--we'll never thirst again.




THE TEN LEPERS.


'Neath the olives of Samaria, in far-famed Galilee,
Where dark green vines are mirrored in a placid silver sea,