If true unto thyself thou wast, What were the proud one's scorn to thee? A feather, which thou mightest cast Aside, as idly as the blast The light leaf from the tree. No:-uncurb'd passions-low desires- These are thine enemies-thy worst: Thy labour and thy life accurst. Oh, stand erect! and from them burst! Thou art thyself thine enemy! The great!—what better they than thou? As theirs, is not thy will as free? Has God with equal favours thee True, wealth thou hast not: 'tis but dust! Of both-a noble mind. With this, and passions under ban, -American. M. D. GALLAGHER, 1808— NOW AND THEN. Now is a constant warning stroke It bids us keep the soul awake, To do the best our means allow, Now is the watchword of the wise, Brings pain of heart, and gloom of brow; Now gilds the banner of the brave, And Prudence wears it on her breast; That talisman has power to save From vain remorse and sad unrest. Then leads us by an easy rein, And breaks our well-intention'd vow : But would we earn some sterling gain, Let's make the effort Now. Then may not come,-but Now is here, All ready at our own right hand, Perhaps with aspect half austere, Yet prompt to help, if we command: Strive with it, and its blessings fall, Like sweet fruit from a laden bough; But we must feed on husks of gall, If we neglect the Now. In youth, if just ambition fire, And seem to lift the soul on wings; Is the fresh foremost Now. In manhood, with our passions strong, If some insidious power of wrong Sorrows will come, regrets and fears Let's seek the right, and Now. If 'mid the world's rude shock and strife, Oh, what a priceless loss is thine! Procrastination, foe to bliss, Curse far more baneful than it seems, JOHN CRITCHLEY PRINCE, 1808 THE FUTURE. It was good, it was kind, in the Wise One above, Did we know that the voices, now gentle and bland, Will forego the fond word and the whispering tone; Did we know that the eager and warm-pressing hand Will be joyfully forward in "casting the stone:" Did we know the affection engrossing our soul Oh! did we but know of the shadows so nigh, For if Hope is a star that may lead us astray, And "deceiveth the heart," as the aged ones preach; Yet 'twas Mercy that gave it, to beacon our way, Though its halo illumes where we never can reach. |