Recollect how many a time
The spider fail'd his web to climb;
Bear in mind that watchful man,
Bruce of Scotland-noble clan.

Wave your hand with joy amain,
Bid farewell to sloth and pain;
Ever onwards-try again!

"Perseverance" be your song,
Strength infusing, loud and long,
For life's path's beset with sin,
And life's battle's hard to win.

If you fail, wipe off the stain,
By striving where you strove in vain :
Persevere, and try again !-F. G. Lee.

Twilight.

Oh, Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting heaven with earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and running streams,
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome.

Dear art thou to the lover, thou sweet light,
Fair, fleeting sister of the mournful Night!
As in impatient hope he stands apart,
Companion'd only by his beating heart,
And with an eager fancy oft beholds
The vision of a white robe's fluttering folds.

Hon. Mrs. Norton.

I love thee, Twilight! As thy shadows roll,
The calm of evening steals upon the soul,
Sublimely tender-solemnly serene-

Still as the hour-enchanting as the scene.
Twilight! I love thee: let thy glooms increase,
Till every feeling, every pulse is peace.

Montgomery.

Twins.

Two dew-drops, sent down by heaven to refresh the earth, and give back their image in their transparent purity.

Tyranny.

The frost which congeals the stream of social progress.— Servility unmasked.

Unbelief.

If revelation be, as some suppose,

An empty fiction, whence delusion flows,
The fabled error with no evil teems,

But charms me waking, and delights my dreams;
With tongue of seraph bids life's troubles cease,
And points to paths of pleasantness and peace;
Nor will its comforts fail, when fails my breath,
But, like an angel, bless me even in death!
And should the pleasing hopes its voice inspires,
Delusive prove when aged time expires,

The fond delusion, from all mischief free,
Hereafter will not-cannot injure me;
But think, if its tremendous threats prove true,
O think, what then, sir, will become of you!

Dr. Booker.

When first Religion came to bless the land,
Her friends were then a firm believing band;
To doubt was then to plunge in guilt extreme,
And all was gospel that a monk could dream;
Insulted reason fled the grovelling soul,
For fear to guide, and visions to control :
But now, when reason has assumed her throne,
She in her turn demands to reign alone;
Rejecting all that lies beyond her view,
And being judge, will be a witness too;

Insulted faith then leaves the doubtful mind,
To seek for truth, without a power to find :
Ah! when will both in friendly beams unite,
And pour on erring man resistless light?

Rev. George Crabbe.

The man who believes not in God should be avoided with greater precaution than the most malignant disease: his presence is far more dangerous than the vilest leprosy, and his utterance is more to be dreaded than the aspic's poison. He is one of Satan's courtiers.-J. Hill.

Understanding.

Most miserable creature under sky
Man without understanding doth appear,
For all this world's affliction he thereby,
And Fortune's freaks, is wisely taught to bear;
Of wretched life the only joy is she,

The only comfort in calamity;

She arms the breast with constant patience,
Against the bitter throes of Dolour's darts,
She solaceth with rules of sapience,
The gentle winds in midst of worldly smarts;
When he is sad she seeks to make him merry,
And doth refresh his soul when he is weary.

Unity.

Spenser.

Thine is the peace-branch, thine the pure command,
Which joins mankind, like brothers, hand in hand.

Usefulness.

Kinglake.

It is a great satisfaction, at the close of life, to be able to look back on the years that are past, and to feel that you have lived, not for yourself alone, but that you have been useful to others. You may be assured, also, that the same feeling is a source of comfort and happiness at any period of life. Nothing in this world is so good as usefulness.

binds your fellow-creatures to you, and you to them; it tends to the improvement of your own character, and it gives you a real importance in society, much beyond what any artificial station can bestow.-Sir B. Brodie.

What are riches? But a bubble.
What is fame? But toil, trouble.
What is genius? 'Tis a spark,
That soon grows dark.

What is beauty? But a flower.
What is love? An April shower.
What is friendship? 'Tis the fly
Just born to die.

What are honours? Empty spoil.
What is learning? Labour, toil.
What is youth? An unspun thread;
All swiftly shred.

What is language? Empty breath.
What is age? Herald of death.
What is time? One moment see,
Herald of eternity.

- Vanity is like the flying-fish, which can use its wings only as long as they are wet; and envy is the natural result of a disparity which gives every stronger wing the advantage.

- Vain was the man, and false as vain,

Who said "Were he ordain'd to run

His long career of life again,

He would do all that he had done."-Moore.

Vice.

Vice looks like other objects black by night.
By night an atheist half believes in God.

Village Churchyard.

How sweet and solemn, all alone,
With reverent steps, from stone to stone,
In a small village churchyard lying,

O'er intervening flowers to move!
And as we read the names unknown,
Of young and old, to judgment gone,
And hear, in the calm air above,
Time onwards softly flying,

To meditate, in Christian love,
Upon the dead and dying.-Wilson.

Virtue.

It is a libel on the name of God--
Rank blasphemy-to say that man was made
Incapable of virtue ;-that his heart

Cannot conceive, or his hand execute
One thought or deed aright.

Man may wander in the paths of vice,
An exile-and an alien-and a slave ;
But virtue is his home! It is the hearth
Paternal, where the heart and its desires

Will linger. 'Tis that favour'd, cherish'd spot,
Which, absent, we deplore, and, present, love!

Lockman, the sage, being asked what caused him to be virtuous, answered, "The sight of vice."

Sweet day! so cool, so calm, so bright,

The bridal of the earth and sky;

The dews shall weep thy fall to-night;
For thou must die.

Sweet rose whose hue, angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye;

Thy root is ever in its grave;

And thou must die.