Hark! the door-bell-who is there?
"Ladies,, Esquire."
Then's renewed the merry hum;
Gayly welcomed as they come,
Father, brother, friend, and lover,
Dick, the statesman, Will, the rover,
Help to swell the careless ring,
Laugh or chat, or sigh or sing.
Time hath wings, the sages say ;
Sure to-night he would not stay;
Soon, full soon the hour's come round,
And we all are "homeward bound."
Thronging through the entrance hall;
But the night is dark at best,
FEW rightly estimate the worth
Of joys that spring and fade on earth;
They are not weeds we should despise,
They are not fruits of paradise,
But wild flowers in the pilgrim's way,
That cheer, yet not protract his stay
Which he dare not too fondly clasp,
Lest they should perish in his grasp;
And yet may view and wisely love,
As proofs and types of joys above.
THOU hast a charmed cup, O Fame!
A draught that mantles high,
And seems to lift this earthly frame
Above mortality.
Away! to me, a woman, bring
Sweet waters from affection's spring.
Thou hast green laurel leaves, that twine
Into so proud a wreath;
For that resplendent gift of thine,
Heroes have smiled in death;
Give me from some kind hand a flower,
The record of one happy hour!
Thou hast a voice, whose thrilling tone
Can bid each life-pulse beat,
As when a trumpet's note hath blown,
Calling the brave to meet :
But mine, let mine, a woman's breast,
By words of home-born love be blessed.
Fame, Fame! thou canst not be the stay Unto the drooping reed,
The cool fresh fountain in the day
Of the soul's feverish need:
Where must the lone one turn or flee?
Not unto thee-O, not to thee!
WHEN the day of life is dreary,
And when gloom thy course enshrouds, -
When thy steps are faint and weary,
And thy spirit dark with clouds,-
Steadfast still in thy well-doing,
Let thy soul forget the past;
Steadfast still the right pursuing,
Doubt not! joy shall come at last.
Striving still and onward pressing,
Seek no future years to know,
But deserve the wished-for blessing;
It shall come, though it be slow;
Never tiring-upward gazing—
Let thy fears aside be cast,
And thy trials tempting, braving,
Doubt not! joy shall come at last.
His fond eye is watching o'er thee –
His strong arm shall be thy guard
Duty's path is straight before thee;
It shall lead to thy reward.
By thine ills thy faith made stronger,
Mould the future by the past
Hope on then a little longer!
Doubt not! joy will come at last.
SINCE in this dreary vale of tears
No certainty but death appears,
Why should we waste our vernal years
In hoarding useless treasure?
No, let the young and ardent mind
Become the friend of human kind,
And in the generous service find
A source of purer pleasure!
Better to live despised and poor,
Than guilt's eternal stings endure;
The future smile of God shall cure
The wound of earthly woes.
Vain world! did we but rightly feel
What ills thy treacherous charms conceal,
How would we long from thee to steal
To death, and sweet repose!
NEVER give up! it is wiser and better
Always to hope than once to despair;
Fling off the load of doubt's cankering fetter,
And break the dark spell of tyrannical care;
Never give up! or the burden may sink you-
Providence kindly has mingled the cup,
And in all trials, or troubles, bethink you,
The watchword of life must be, Never give up.
Never give up! there are chances and changes.
Helping the hopeful a hundred to one,
And through the chaos high wisdom arranges
Every success, if you'll only hope on :
Never give up! for the wisest is boldest,
Knowing that Providence mingles the cup,
And of all maxims the best, as the oldest,
Is the true watchword of Never give up.
Never give up!-though the grape-shot may rattle Or the full thunder-cloud over you burst,
Stand like a rock and the storm or the battle
Little shall harm you, though doing their worst. Never give up!-if adversity presses, Providence wisely has mingled the cup, And the best counsel, in all your distresses,
Is the stout watchword of Never give up!
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