Though Friendship but flit, like a meteor gleam, Oh! 'tis well that the Future is hid from our sight, That we walk in the sunshine, nor dream of the cloud; That we cherish a flower, and think not of blight; That we dance on the loom that may weave us a shroud. It was good, it was kind, in the Wise One above, LIFE AND FORTUNE. OH! fools of fools, and mortal fools, For you had naught when you were born. Then pass the dark-brown hours of night From Paris even to Pampelune, Saving alone such simple boon As needful is for life below. Enough if fame your name adorn, For you had naught when you were born. When all things were for common use— Apples, all blithesome fruits of trees, Nuts, honey, and each gum and juice, Both man and woman too could please. Strife never vex'd these meals of old: Be patient, then, of heat and cold; Esteem not Fortune's favours sure; And of her gifts when you are shorn, With moderate grief your loss endure; For you had naught when you were born. L'ENVOY. If Fortune does you any spite Should even the coat be from you tornPray, blame her not-it is her right; For you had naught when you were born. -French of Chartier, 1386-1447. STRIKE! I'VE a liking for this "striking," If we only do it well; Firm, defiant, like a giant, Strike and make the effort tell! One another, working brother! Let us freely now advise; For reflection and correction Help to make us great and wise. Work and wages, say the sages, My advice is, strike for prices Ever failing, now prevailing, In the heart, or in the head,— Make no clamour-take the hammerDrive it down, and strike it dead! Much of chopping, lopping, propping, Carpenter, we have to do, Ere the plummet from the summit, Take the measure of false pleasure; The foundation of Creation Lies in Truth's unerring laws; Every builder, painter, gilder, With the way his labour goes. Let him reason thus in season: -American. AROUSE THEE, SOUL! AROUSE thee, Soul! God made not thee to sleep Thy hour of earth, in doing naught,-away; Arouse thee, Soul! Oh there is much to do For thee, if thou wouldst work for humankind— The misty Future through, A greatness looms-'tis MIND, awaken'd MIND! Arouse thee, Soul! Arouse thee, Soul! Shake off thy sluggishness, As shakes the lark the dew-drop from its wing; Make but one Error less, One Truth-thine offering to MIND's altar bring! Arouse thee, Soul! Arouse thee, Soul! Be what thou surely art, An emanation from the Deity, A flutter of that heart Which fills all Nature, sea, and earth, and sky. Arouse thee, Soul! |