The Argosy — page 191: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

176 BETWEEN THE LIGHTS. ERE the westward fires have faded, While the distant hills yet glow With the sun’s last benediction, Where he lingers loath to go; While the birds are homeward flying Ere the dark their way benights, And the vesper bells are ringing, Comes the hour between the lights. Ah, the mem’ries dear and holy, Bright and tender, that combine In life’s after hours, its moments, In our heart of hearts to shrine ! For our sweetest dreams come to us, While the daylight slowly dies, And our sweetest words are uttered "Neath the purple gloaming skies. Blithesome lads, and bonnie lasses, How I hope and pray for you, Only mem’ries bright and holy, Only joys deep, pure and true, May be yours while vesper glory Falling night with day unites, Only happy thoughts to hallow The dear hour ‘* between the lights.” HELEN MARION BURNSIDE, Gomichbooks (E(0) =}