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numerous as our pleasures; and few there are who can look back upon the experience of life without acknowledging that every earthly good they have desired, pursued, or attained, has had its peculiar thorn. Who has ever cast himself into the lap of luxury without finding that his couch was strewed with thorns? Who has reached the summit of his ambition without feeling, on that exalted pinnacle, that he stood on thorns? Who has placed the diadem upon his brow without perceiving that thorns were thickly set within the royal circlet? Who has folded to his bosom all that he desired of earth's treasures without feeling that bosom pierced with thorns? All that we enjoy in this world, or yearn to possess, has this accompaniment. The more intense the enjoyment, the sharper the thorn; and those who have described most feelingly the inner workings of the human heart, have unfailingly touched upon this fact with the melancholy sadness of truth.

Far be it from one, who would not willingly fall under the stigma of ingratitude, to disparage the nature or the number of earthly pleasures-pleasures which are spread before us without price or limitation, in our daily walk, and in our nightly rest pleasures which lie scattered around our path when we go forth upon the hills or wander in the valley, when we look up to the starry sky or down to the fruitful earth-pleasures which unite the human family in one bond of fellowship,

surround us at our board, cheer us at our fireside, smooth the couch on which we slumber, and even follow our wandering steps long, long after we have ceased to regard them with gratitude or joy. I speak of the thorn which accompanies these pleasures not with murmuring or complaint; I speak of the wounds inflicted by this thorn with a living consciousness of their poignancy and anguish; because exquisite and dear as mere earthly pleasures may sometimes be, I would still contrast them with such as are not earthly. I would contrast the thorn and the wound, the disappointment and the pain, which accompany all such pleasures as are merely temporal, with the fulness of happiness, the peace, and the crown, accompanying those which are eternal.

They smilingly fulfil
Their Maker's will,


All meekly bending 'neath the tempest's weight;

By pride unvisited,

Though richly raimented,

As is a monarch in his robes of state.


Ranunculus acris.


To purchase heaven has gold the power?
Can gold remove the mortal hour?
In life can love be bought with gold?
Are friendship's pleasures to be sold?
No; all that's worth a wish, a thought,
Fair virtue gives unbribed, unbought:
Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind ;
Let nobler views engage thy mind.


Why dost thou heap up wealth, which thou must quit, Or, what is worse, be left by it?

Why dost thou load thyself, when thou'rt to fly,
O man, ordained to die?

To catch Dame Fortune's golden smile,
Assiduous wait upon her,

And gather gear by every wile
That's justified by honor.
Not for to hide it in a hedge,
Not for a train attendant;
But for the glorious privilege
Of being independent.







YOUNG men fly when beauty darts
Amorous glances at their hearts;
The fixed mark gives the shooter aim;
And ladies' looks have power to maim;
Now 'twixt their lips, now in their eyes,
Rapt in a smile, or iss, love lies;
Then fly betimes, for only they
Conquer love that run away.


Farewell! ah, farewell! though my spirit may droop,
That its fond dream has fled, and in bitterness stoop
To the dust for the fall of the idol it made,

My pride and its purity nought shall degrade.

I thought thee all perfect, as pure as the sun,
And thy truth and thy brightness my wild worship won;
But alas! the illusion so cherished is o'er ;

My pride has been roused, and I'll meet thee no more.


The blossoms of passion,

Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fragrance;

But they beguile us and lead us astray, and their odor is




Anthemis Nobilis.


NEVER go gloomily, man with a mind;

Hope is a better companion than fear; Providence, ever benignant and kind,

Gives with a smile what you take with a tear; All will be right;

Look to the light;

Morning is ever the daughter of night;
All that is black will be all that is bright;
Cheerily, cheerily, then! cheer up!

Many a foe is a friend in disguise;

Many a sorrow a blessing most true,
Helping the heart to be happy and wise

With lore ever precious and joys ever new;
Stand in the van;

Strive like a man ;

This is the bravest and cleverest plan;

Trusting in God, while you do what you can ;
Cheerily, cheerily, then! cheer up!


If your resolutions be like mine,
We will yet give our sorrows a brave end.
Justice is for us; so may fortune be:
I'm a bright proof of her inconstancy;
But if no god will lend us any aid,
Let us be gods and fortune to ourselves.


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