"Beware the pine-tree's withered branch! This was the peasant's last Good-night, At break of day, as heavenward A traveler, by the faithful hound, That banner with the strange device, There in the twilight cold and gray, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star, Excelsior! Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [1807–1882] THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH UNDER a spreading chestnut-tree With large and sinewy hands; His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, And looks the whole world in the face, Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear him swing his heavy sledge Like a sexton ringing the village bell, And children coming home from school They love to see the flaming forge, And catch the burning sparks that fly He goes on Sunday to the church, He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter's voice, Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, Thus at the flaming forge of life Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [1807–1882] FOUR THINGS FOUR things a man must learn to do Henry Van Dyke [1852 LABOR AND LOVE LABOR and love! there are no other laws To rule the liberal action of that soul Which fate hath set beneath thy brief control, Or lull the empty fear that racks and gnaws; Labor! then like a rising moon, the cause Of life shall light thine hour from pole to pole, Thou shalt taste health of purpose, and the roll Of simple joys unwind without a pause. Love! and thy heart shall cease to question why Its beating pulse was set to rock and rave; Find but another heart this side the grave To soothe and cling to,-thou hast life's reply. Labor and love! then fade without a sigh, Submerged beneath the inexorable wave. Edmund Gosse [1849 WHAT IS GOOD "WHAT is the real good?" Order, said the law court; Freedom, said the dreamer; Home, said the sage; Fame, said the soldier; Equity, the seer;— Spake my heart full sadly, Then within my bosom Softly this I heard: "Each heart holds the secret; Kindness is the word." John Boyle O'Reilly [1844-1890] FAITH BETTER trust all and be deceived, And weep that trust and that deceiving, Oh, in this mocking world, too fast Than lose the blessed hope of truth. Frances Anne Kemble [1809-1893] A CHARGE If thou hast squandered years to grave a gem Others would bribe thy needy skill to them— Should'st thou at last discover Beauty's grove, Drunk with divine possession, thou meet Love— When round thy ship in tempest Hell appears, And loose to madness thy deep-kenneled Fears— Last, if upon the cold, green-mantling sea, And one must perish-let it not be he Whom thou art sworn to obey. Herbert Trench [1865 TO-DAY So here hath been dawning Another blue Day: Think, wilt thou let it Slip useless away? Out of Eternity This new Day is born; Into Eternity, At night, will return. Behold it aforetime No eye ever did: So soon it for ever From all eyes is hid. Here hath been dawning Another blue Day: Slip useless away? Thomas Carlyle [1795-1881] "MY DAYS AMONG THE DEAD ARE PASSED" My days among the Dead are passed, Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old: |