Well for thee, if thy lip could tell
A tale like this-of a day spent well.
If thine open hand hath relieved distress-
If thy pity hath sprung to wretchedness—
If thou hast forgiven the sore offence,
And humbled thy heart with penitence-
If Nature's voices have spoken to thee
With her holy meanings eloquently-
If every creature hath won thy love,
From the creeping worm to the brooding dove-
If never a sad, low-spoken word
Hath pled with thy human heart unheard-
Then, when the night steals on, as now,
It will bring relief to thine aching brow,
And, with joy and peace at the thought of rest,
Thou wilt sink to sleep on thy mother's breast.
N. P. WILLIS, 1807-
BENEATH our feet and o'er our head
Is equal warning given;
Beneath us lie the countless dead,
Above us is the heaven!
Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay :
And ere another day is done,
Ourselves may be as they.
Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower;
Each season has its own disease,
Its peril every hour!
Our eyes have seen the rosy light
Of youth's soft cheek decay,
And Fate descend in sudden night
On manhood's middle day.
eyes have seen the steps of age
Halt feebly towards the tomb;
And yet shall earth our hearts engage,
And dreams of days to come?
Turn, mortal, turn! thy danger know;
Where'er thy foot can tread
The earth rings hollow from below,
And warns thee of her dead!
Turn, Christian, turn! thy soul apply
To truths divinely given;
The bones that underneath thee lie
Shall live for hell or heaven!
BISHOP HEBER, 1783-1826.
To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;—
This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress! None that, with kindred consciousness endued, If we were not, would seem to smile the less, Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought and sued; This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
THE world is still deceived with ornament.
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
But, being season'd with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
What damned error, but some sober brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
There is no vice so simple, but assumes
Some mark of virtue on its outward parts.
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars,
Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk
And these assume but valour's excrement,
To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight;
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lightest that wear most of it:
So are those crispèd, snaky, golden locks,
Which makes such wanton gambols with the wind,
Upon supposed fairness often known
To be the dowry of a second head;
The skull that bred them, in the sepulchre.
Thus ornament is but the guilèd shore
To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
The seeming truth which coming time put on
W. SHAKSPEARE, 1564-1616.
JOUK AND LET THE JAW GAE BY!
OH! say not life is ever drear,
For midst its scenes of toil and care
There's aye some joy the heart to cheer-
There's aye some spot that's green and fair.
To gain that spot the aim be ours,
For nocht we'll get unless we try;
And when misfortune round us lours,
We'll jouk and let the jaw gae by.
The wee bit flow'ret in the glen
Maun bend beneath the surly blast;
The birdie seeks some leafy den,
And shelters till the storm is past:
The "owrie sheep," when winds blaw snell,
To some lown spot for refuge hie;
And sae, frae ills we canna quell,
We'll jouk and let the jaw gae by.
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