My brave young boys take heed I pray, And walk not in this black crime's path, Walk on that high and grand straight way, Which shuns the place of fire and wrath. Ye bright hopes of the yet to come, With truth now let your feet be shod, Strive for that blest and dear good home, In the grand realms of our God. DRIFTING. CALISTA L. GRANT. I stand by the river, so peacefully shining, I wait for the summons that's coming to me! Thou fair, golden city, soon, soon, I shall find me For I'm dying, you say, though it seems more like dreaming, So slowly the life-tide is ebbing away, So slowly is fading life's lingering ray! So long all of earth hath been idle seeming, So long, oh, so long, have I watched for the gleaming Through the vine-curtained window the sunlight is sifting, On the snow of the mountains the purple mist lies; But they fade from my view, as the death-shadows rise, And out from the earth-life my lone bark is drifting, Through the mist and the shadow, but angels are lifting, With invisible fingers, the gates of the skies! A FAREWELL Farewell! since never more for thee There are who for thy last, long sleep Sad thrift of love! the loving breast FAITH. FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE. BETTER trust all and be deceived, And weep that trust and that deceiving, Than doubt one heart that if believed Had blessed one's life with true believing O, in this mocking world too fast The doubting fiend o'ertakes our youth; Better be cheated to the last Than lose the blessed hope of truth. Our sweetest and most bitter hours are thine; Thou by the weary frame art fondly pressed, Which, grateful, blesses its most welcome shrine, While curses thee, pale sickness' sad unrest. 'Tis here the blushing bride receives her lord; 'Tis here the mother first beholds her child; 'Tis here death snaps affection's fondest cord, And changes sunny bliss to anguish wild; "Tis here the good man, pondering on his fate, Beholds that bed which this doth typefy, Made by the sexton, his frail form's estate, Where, in long slumber, it shall dreamless lie; And he exults, feeling in that dark sod His robe alone will lie-the rest with God! |