Each breath is burdened with a bidding, and every minute hath its mis sion; For spirits, good and bad, cluster on the thickly peopled air: That, as he toileth upward, crumble successively behind him: No going back, the past is an abyss; no stopping, for the present perish eth; But ever hasting on, precarious on the foothold of To-day. Our cares are all To-day; our joys are all To-day; And in one little word, our life, what is it, but-To-day? OF TO-MORROW. THERE is a floating island, forward, on the stream of time, Her eyes are bright with invitation, and allurement lurketh in her cheeks; THERE is a fairy skiff, plying on the sea of life, And charitably toiling still to save the shipwrecked crews; And, full of gladdening words and looks, that mariner is Hope. TO-MORROW, whispereth weakness; and To-morrow findeth him the weaker; To-morrow, promiseth conscience; and behold, no to-day for a fulfilment. O name of happy omen unto youth, O bitter word of terror to the dotard, Goal of folly's lazy wish, and sorrow's ever-coming friend, Fraud's loophole,—caution's hint,—and trap to catch the honest,— Thou hope and fear, thou weal and woe, thou remedy, thou ruin, TO-MORROW is that lamp upon the marsh, which a traveller never reacheth; To-morrow, the rainbow's cup, coveted prize of ignorance; To-morrow, the shifting anchorage, dangerous trust of mariners; Why should I? let me trust To-morrow, this is the Cassava's poison. Lo, it is the even of To-day,—a day so lately a To-morrow; O faint fond heart, still shall thy whisper be, To-morrow, And must the growing avalanche of sin roll down that easy slope? Alas, it is ponderous, and moving on in might, that a Sisyphus may not stop it; But haste thee with the lever of a prayer, and stem its strength To-day: For its race may speedily be run, and this poor hut, thyself, Be whelmed in death and suffocating guilt, that dreary Alpine snow wreath. PENSIONER of life, be wise, and heed a brother's counsel, I also am a beadsman, with scrip and staff as thou: Wouldest thou be bold against the past, and all its evil memories, Wouldest thou be safe amid the present, its dangers and temptations, Wouldest thou be hopeful of the future, vague though it be and endless? Haste thee, repent, believe, obey! thou standest in the courage of a legion : Commend the Past to God, with all its irrevocable harm, Humbly, but in cheerful trust, and banish vain regrets; Come to him, continually come, casting all the Present at his feet, OF AUTHORSHIP. GREAT is the dignity of Authorship: I magnify mine office; For it is to be one of a noble band, the welfare of the world, Whose haunt is on the lips of men, whose dwelling in their hearts, visions of Hope, Who commune with the good for everlasting, and call the wisest, brother, Whose voice hath burst the Silence, and whose light is flung upon the Darkness, -Flashing jewels on a robe of black, and harmony bounding out of chaos,— Who gladden empires with their wisdom, and bless to the farthest gene ration, Doers of illimitable good, gainers of inestimable glory! We speak but of the Magnates, we heed none humbler than the highest, We take no count of sorry scribes, nor waste one thought upon the groundlings; Our eyes are lifted from the multitude, groping in the dark with candles, To gaze upon that firmament of praise, the constellated lamps of learning. Everduring witnesses of Mind, undisputed evidence of Power, Goodly volumes, living stones, build up their author's temple; Though of low estate, his rank is above princes, though needy, he hath worship of the rich, When Genius unfurleth on the winds his banner as a mighty leader. Keen and clear perception gloweth on his forehead like a sunbeam, |