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He shtuffs mine pipe mit Limburg scheese,
Dot vas der roughest chouse,
But leedle Yawcob Strauss.
He dakes mine milk-ban for a drum
Und cuts mine cane in dwo
I tells you dot vas drue.
He kicks oop sooch a touse;
Like dot young Yawcob Strauss.
He ashks me questions sooch as dese:
"Who baint mine nose so red ?"
Vrom der hair upon mein hed?"
Vene er der glim I douse.
To dot smchall Yawcob Strauss ?
I somedimes dink I schall go vildt
Mit sooch a grazy poy,
Und quiet dimes enzhoy;
So quiet as a mouse,
But leaf dot Yawcob Strauss."
Charles Follen Adams, in "Leedle Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems." By permission of the author.
There is no flock, however watched and tended.
But one dead lamb is there!
But has one vacant chair!
The air is full of farewells to the dying,
And mournings for the dead;
Will not be comforted!
Let us be patient! These severe afflictions
Not from the ground arise,
Assume this dark disguise.
We see but dimly through the mists and vapors;
Amid these earthly damps,
May be heaven's distant lamps.
There is no Death! What seems so is transition.
This life of mortal breath
Whose portal we call Death.
She is not dead—the child of our affection
But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection,
And Christ himself doth rule.
In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion,
By guardian angels led,
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's políution,
She lives, whom we call dead.
Day after day we think what she is doing
In those bright realms of air;
Behold her grown more fair.
Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken
The bond which nature gives, Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken,
May reach her where she lives.
Not as a child shall we again behold her
For when with raptures wild
She will not be a child;
But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion,
Clothed with celestial grace;
Shall we behold her face.
And though at times impetuous with emotion
And anguish long suppressed,
That cannot be at rest.
We will be patient, and assuage the feeling
We may not wholly stay:
Henry W. Longfellow.
NEVER SAY FAIL!
Keep pushing—'tis wiser
Than sitting aside,
And waiting the tide.
They only prevail
And never say fail!
With an eye ever open,
A tongue that's not dumb, And a heart that will never
To sorrow succumbYou'll battle and conquer,
Though thousands assail: How strong and how mighty Who never say
fail! The spirit of angels
Is active, I know, As higher and higher
In glory they go; Methinks on bright pinions
From Heaven they sail, To cheer and encourage Who never say
Ahead, then, keep pushing,
And elbow your way, Unheeding the envious,
And asses that bray; All obstacles vanish,
All enemies quail,
In the might of their wisdom
Who never say fail!
In life's early morning,
In manhood's firm pride,
Your footsteps to guide;
And never say fail!
FORTY YEARS AGO
I've wandered to the village, Tom,
I've sat beneath the tree
That sheltered you and me;
And few were left to know
Just forty years ago.
The grass was just as green, Tom,
Barefooted boys at play
With spirits just as gay;
Which, coated o'er with snow,
Some forty years ago.