lire, account for the distinctive style which is all her own.
Mrs. Upham's vivacity and warmth of heart make her a favorite, and, while not a club woman, she has a wide acquaintance with such. It is in patriotic societies that she feels her keenest interest, and she is a member of the following: Daughters of the American Revolution, Daughters of 1812, Society of Mayflower Descendants, Huguenot Society of America, belonging also to the Society of American Authors and Boston Authors' Society, and being an honorary Member of the League of American Penwomen and the Ladies' Physiological Institute.
A sketch of Mrs. Upham's work would be incomplete without reference to her poems and carols, many of the latter, written years ago, still being sung annually, notwithstanding the new ones offered every season.
Two short poems are given below, and many will recall the tender beauty of "Questionings," which appeared originally in the Boston Transcriptf but which was widely copied and appreciated.
The Memorial Day poem has appealed to comrades' hearts all over the country:—
ROSES, LILIES, AND FORGET-ME-NOTS.
| Roses (Lancaster), red | War |
| Lilies | Purity |
| Forget-me-nots | Enduring Memories |
Halt I
Comrades, bow with uncovered head,
And deem it not weakness to shed
Tears o'er his grave.
Strew flowers with Memory's hand,
Float o'er him the flag of our land
lie died to save.
The red /or the blood he shed,
The white for his soul so pure,
The blue for the sky overhead,
Where his name shall aye endure.
lie was only a stripling, young,
Hut ne'er hath the poet sung
Of one so brave.
In the carnage of shot and shell,
With the broken staff, he fell.
And found a grave.
Oh, then, scatter ye roses red,
lied, red as the blood he shed,
And lilies white.
Weave in the forget-me-not's hue,
A garland, red, white, and blue, —
Our emblem bright.
The red for the blood he shed,
The white for his soul so pure.
The blue for the sky o'erhead.
Where his name shall aye endure.
Nothing could be more finished or spirited than the few comprehensive lines to John Boyle O'Reilly:—
In Memoriam.
JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY.
August, 1891 — August, 1894.
(Written for The Catholic World.)
Patriot and Poet! Martyr! Exile
From out a land that should have owned thee king I
Disciple of thy Lord in suffering I
Like Him, a ransom paid, that thy green isle
Might burst its bondage chains and live to smile
In Freedom's sunlight. Sadly we do bring
To-day the shamrock's drooping leaf, and sing,—
Not as of yore, when thou wert here the while,
As knight and leader of the Muses' choir:
The harp of Erin plays sad discords now.
And we, too, chant a requiem for thee.
O Jubilate I Nay, we'll tune the lyre
To wild rejoicing, and to Wisdom bowl
No fetters bind thy soul on either seal
MARY JANE PARKHURST, a past president of Colonel Allen Woman's Relief Corps, of Gloucester, Mass., and prominent member of several fraternal organizations in that city, is a native of Cape Ann, and comes of old Essex County colonial stock. The daughter of Nathaniel and Martha (Brooks) Lowe, she was born in Rockport, August 22, 1843. The death of Mrs. Martha B. Lowe when Mary was only two weeks old led to the child's adoption, without change of name, by John Woodward and Sarah (Stanwood) Lowe, of Gloucester. Tenderly and carefully nurtured by her foster-parents, whose memory she cherishes with filial affection and gratitude, Mary J. Lowe grew to maturity amid pleasant surroundings
