Give me the man, as a friend and a neighbor, Who toils at the loom, the spade, or the plough, Who wins his diploma of manhood by labor, And purchases wealth by the sweat of his brow. And that man shall be found 'mid the close ranks of labor, And be known by the work which his industry rears; And the chiefdom when won shall be dear to his labor, And we'll honor the man whatever he wears. Judge of a man by the work he is doing, Speak of a man as his actions demand, Watch well the path that each is pursuing, And let the most worthy be chief in the land. Why should the broadcloth alone be respected, And the man be despised who in fustian appears? While the angels in heaven have their limbs unprotected, You can't judge a man by the coat that he wears. KATE O'SHANE. GEORGE LINLEY. THE cold winds of autumn wail mournfully here, The leaves round me falling are faded and sere; But chill though the breeze be, and threat'ning the storm, My heart full of fondness beats kindly and warm. Oh! Dennis, dear, come back to me, From thine own darling-Kate 'Twas here we last parted, 'twas here we first met, And ne'er has he caused me one tear of regret ; The seasons may alter, their change I defy, My heart's one glad summer when Dennis is by. Oh! Dennis, dear, etc. THE COTTAGE BY THE SEA. J. H. THOMAS. CHILDHOOD days now pass before me, Fancy sees the rose-tree twining What, though years have passed above me, WAIT TILL I PUT ON MY BONNET. CHARLES SWAIN. My father loves counting his cattle, But mine's like a gipsy's, so A bonnet that's careless of weather, crown. The day was intended for labor, WILLIE, WE HAVE MISSED YOU. 8. C. FOSTER. OH! Willie, is it you, dear, safe, safe at home? They did not tell me true, dear, they said you would not come ; I heard you at the gate, and it made my heart rejoice, For I knew that welcome footstep and that dear familiar voice. Making music on my ear in the lonely midnight gloom. Oh, Willie, we have missed youwelcome, welcome home. We've longed to see you nightly, but this night of all, The fire was blazing brightly, and lights were in the hall. The little ones were up till 'twas ten o'clock and past, Then their eyes began to twinkle, and they've gone to sleep at last; But they listened for your voice till they thought you'd never come, Oh! Willie, we have missed youwelcome, welcome home. |