Care and peril in lieu of joy, Guilt and dread may be thine, proud boy : Is foaming with sorrow, and sickness, and strife; Cheated by pleasure, and sated with pain,- -It is well. I discern a tear on thy cheek: For life, good youth, hath never an ill Which hope cannot scatter, and faith cannot kill ; And stubborn realities never shall bind The free-spreading wings of a cheerful mind. THE SONG OF SEVENTY. I AM not old,-I cannot be old, Though threescore years and ten Have wasted away, like a tale that is told, I am not old; though friends and foes And left me alone to my joys or my woes, I am not old, I cannot be old, Though tottering, wrinkled and gray: Though my eyes are dim, and my marrow is cold, Call me not old to-day. For early memories round me throng, 1 look behind, and am once more young, And my heart can sing, as of yore it sung, I do not see her, the old wife there- But I look on her blooming, and soft, and fair, I do not see you, daughters and sons, And as my own grandson rides on my knee, I can well recollect I was merry as he― "Tis not long since,-it cannot be long,- Since I was a boy, both straight and strong, A dream, a dream,-it is all a dream! Eye hath not seen, tongue hath not told, How buoyant and bold, though it seem to grow old, For ever young,—though life's old age The heart, the heart is a heritage NATURE'S NOBLEMAN. AWAY with false fashion, so calm and so chill, For the deepest in feeling is highest in rank, And nature's own Nobleman, friendly and frank, Fearless in honesty, gentle yet just, He warmly can love,-and can hate, Nor will he bow down with his face in the dust For best in good breeding, and highest in rank, Is nature's own Nobleman, friendly and frank, His fashion is passion, sincere and intense, Yet tempered by judgment, and taught by good sense, For the finest in manners, as highest in rank, NEVER GIVE UP. NEVER give up! it is wiser and better And break the dark spell of tyrannical care: The watchword of life must be, Never give up! Never give up! there are chances and changes Never give up!--though the grape-shot may rattle, Providence wisely has mingled the cup, THE SUN. BLAME not, ye million worshippers of gold- When Asia's children, in the times of old, Knelt to the sun, outpouring prayer and praise As to God's central throne; for when the blaze Watching its majesty with painful gaze, THE MOON. I KNOW thee not, O moon,-thou caverned realm, Where cold, alternate, and the sulphurous breath Of ravaging volcanoes, overwhelm All chance of life like ours,-art thou not Some fallow world, after a reaping time Of creatures' judgment, resting in thy lot? Or haplier must I take thee for the blot On God's fair firmament, the home of crime, The prison-house of sin, where damned souls Feed upon punishment?-O thought sublime, That, amid Night's black deeds, when evil prowls Through the broad world, then, watching sinners wel Glares over all the wakeful eye of-Hell! THE STARS. I. FAR-FLAMING stars, ye sentinels of Space, Patient and silent ministers around |