80. Good Heart and Willing Hand,
In storms or shine, two friends of mine
Go forth to work or play,
And when they visit poor men's homes,
They bless them by the way.
'Tis willing hand! 'Tis cheerful heart!
The two best friends I know,
Around the hearth come joy and mirth
Where'er their faces glow.
Come shine-'tis bright! come dark-'tis light!
Come cold-'tis warm ere long!
So heavily fall the hammer stroke!
Merrily sound the song!
Who falls may stand, if good right hand
Is first, not second best:
Who weeps, may sing, if kindly heart
Has lodged in his breast.
The humblest board has dainties poured,
When they sit down to dine;
The crust they eat is honey sweet,
The water good as wine.
They fill the purse with honest gold,
They lead no creature wrong;
So heavily fall the hammer stroke!
Merrily sound the song!
Without these twain, the poor complain
Of evils hard to bear,
But with them, poverty grows rich
And finds a loaf to spare!
Their looks are fire-their words inspire-
Their deeds give courage high;
About their knees the children run,
Or climb, they know not why.
Who sails, or rides, or walks with them,
Ne'er finds the journey long;-
So heavily fall the hammer stroke!
Merrily sound the song!
Chas. Mackay, Scotland, 1814—.
A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract
Of inland ground, applying to his ear
The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell,-
To which, in silence hushed, his very soul
Listened intensely; and his countenance soon
Brightened with joy,-for murmurings from within
Were heard, sonorous cadences, whereby,
To his belief, the monitor expressed
Mysterious union with its native sea.
Even such a shell the universe itself
Is to the ear of Faith; and there are times,
I doubt not, when to you it doth impart
Authentic tidings of invisible things;
Of ebb and flow and ever-enduring power;
And central peace, subsisting at the heart
Of endless agitation.
W. Wordsworth, England, 1770-1850,
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistening with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers, and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild: then silent Night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heaven, her starry train.
John Milton, England, 1625-1660
Since trifles make the sum of human things,
And half our misery from our foibles springs;
Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease,
And though but few can serve, yet all may please;
Oh, let the ungentle spirit learn from hence,
A small unkindness is a great offence!
To spread large bounties, though we wish in vain,
Yet all may shun the guilt of giving pain.
To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth,
With rank to grace them, or to crown with health,
Our little lot denies; yet liberal still,
God gives its counterpoise to every ill;
Nor let us murmur at our stinted powers,
When kindness, love, and concord may be ours.
The gift of ministering to others' ease
To all her sons impartial Heaven decrees;
The gentle offices of patient love,
Beyond all flattery, and all price above;
The mild forbearance at a brother's fault,
The angry word suppressed, the taunting thought;
Subduing and subdued the petty strife
Which clouds the color of domestic life;
The sober comfort, all the peace which springs
From the large aggregate of little things.
Hannah More, England, 1745-1833.
84. Greatness and Goodness.
Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends!
Hath he not always treasures, always friends,
The good great man? three treasures, love and light,
And calm thoughts, regular as infant's breath;
And three firm friends, more sure than day and
Himself, his Maker, and the angel death.
S. T. Coleridge, England, 1772-1834.
85. Hope, Love, Faith.
Hope, only Hope, of all that clings.
Around us, never spreads her wings;
Love, though he break his earthly chain,
Still whispers he will come again;
But Faith, that soars to seek the sky,
Shall teach our half-fledged souls to fly,
And find, beyond the smoke and flame,
The cloudless azure whence they came.
O. W. Holmes, Mass., 1809-.
Life! I know not what thou art,
But know that thou and I must part;
And when, or how, or where we met,
I own to me 's a secret yet.
Life! we've been long together,
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear,—
Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear;
-Then steal away, give little warning,
Choose thine own time;
Say not "Good night,”—but in some brighter clime
Anna L. Barbauld, England, 1743-1825.
87. The Excellent Man.
They gave me advice and counsel in store,
Praised me and honored me, more and more;
Said that I only should wait awhile,'
Offered their patronage, too, with a smile.
But with all their honor and approbation,
I should, long ago, have died of starvation,
Had there not come an excellent man,
Who bravely to help me along began.
Good fellow! he got me the food I ate,
His kindness and care I shall never forget;
Yet I cannot embrace him,—though other folks can,—
For I myself am this excellent man.
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