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Of her temper 'tis a proof

Frighten'd love will keep aloof.
We spin, my girl and I.

Spin, spin from morn till night:
Maidens, do your task aright...I spin.
And in time some lover true

Shall twine a thread of love for you.
We spin, my girl and I.

Spin, girls, then spin ever,

Spin along-spin well together...I spin.

Gently go, and steadily too,

You for us and we for you.

We spin, my girl and I.

-Swiss National Melody.

CLEAR THE WAY.

MEN of thought! be up, and stirring
Night and day:

Sow the seed-withdraw the curtain

Clear the way!

Men of action, aid and cheer them,
As ye may!

There's a fount about to stream,

There's a light about to beam,

There's a warmth about to glow,

There's a flower about to blow,
There's a midnight blackness changing
Into gray;

Men of thought and men of action,
Clear the way!

Once the welcome light has broken,
Who shall say

What the unimagined glories
Of the day?

What the evil that shall perish
In its ray?

Aid the dawning, tongue and pen ;
Aid it, hopes of honest men ;
Aid it, paper-aid it, type-

Aid it, for the hour is ripe,

And our earnest must not slacken
Into play.

Men of thought and men of action,
Clear the way!

Lo! a cloud's about to vanish

From the day;

And a brazen wrong to crumble

Into clay.

Lo! the right's about to conquer,
Clear the way!

With the Right shall many more
Enter smiling at the door;

M

With the giant Wrong shall fall
Many others, great and small,
That for ages long have held us
For their prey.

Men of thought and men of action,
Clear the way!

CHARLES MACKAY, 1814

AND WHAT'S A LIFE?

AND what's a life?-a weary pilgrimage,
Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage
With childhood, manhood, and decrepit age.

And what's a life?-the flourishing array
Of the proud summer meadow, which to-day
Wears her green plush, and is to-morrow hay.

Read on this dial, how the shades devour
My short-lived winter's day! hour eats up hour;
Alas! the total's but from eight to four.

Behold these lilies, which Thy hands have made,
Fair copies of my life, and open laid

To view, how soon they droop, how soon they fade!

Shade not that dial, night will blind too soon;
My non-aged day already points to noon;
How simple is my suit!-how small my boon!

Nor do I beg this slender inch to wile
The time away, or falsely to beguile

My thoughts with joy: here's nothing worth a smile.

FRANCIS QUARLES, 1592-1644.

"WHY STAND YE HERE ALL THE

DAY IDLE?"

MATT. xx. 6.

THE God of Glory walks His round,

From day to day, from year to year,

And warns us each with awful sound, "No longer stand ye idle here!

"Ye whose young cheeks are rosy bright,

Whose hands are strong, whose hearts are clear,

Waste not of hope the morning light!

Ah fools! why stand ye idle here?

"Oh, as the griefs ye would assuage That wait on life's declining year, Secure a blessing for your age,

And work your Maker's business here!

"And ye whose locks of scanty gray
Foretell your latest travail near,
How swiftly fades your worthless day!
And stand ye yet so idle here?

"One hour remains, there is but one!
But many a shriek and many a tear
Through endless years the guilt must moan
Of moments lost and wasted here!"

O Thou, by all Thy works adored,
To whom the sinner's soul is dear,

Recall us to Thy vineyard, Lord!

And grant us grace to please Thee here! BISHOP HEBER, 1783-1826.

HOPE AND TRUST.

OH! sigh not-weep not, if some day
Fling shard or shadow on thy way;
Remember, thou hast but thy share
Of the great sum of human care;
Think of the things beyond thy sphere
Thou canst not see, thou canst not hear,-
Of labour's trammels lightly worn,

Of mighty sorrows bravely borne ;
And then, subdue thy lesser pain-
The clouded sun will shine again.

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