He passed a long and restless night,
Dreaming of structures tall and fair;
He came with the returning light,
And lo, the faithless sands were bare.
Less wise than that unthinking child
Are all that breathe of mortal birth,
Who grasp, with strivings warm and wild,
The false and fading toys of earth.
Gold, learning, glory — what are they
Without the faith that looks on high?
The sand forts of a child at play,
Which are not when the wave goes by.
Be kind to thy father-for when thou wert young, Who loved thee so fondly as he?
He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue, And joined in thy innocent glee.
Be kind to thy father for now he is old,
His locks intermingled with gray;
His footsteps are feeble, once fearless and bold-
Thy father is passing away.
Be kind to thy mother- for lo! on her brow
May traces of sorrow be seen;
Oh, well may'st thou cherish and comfort her now,
For loving and kind she hath been.
Remember thy mother for thee will she pray,
As long as God giveth her breath;
With accents of kindness then cheer her lone way,
E'en to the dark valley of death.
Be kind to thy brother - his heart will have dearth,
If the smile of thy joy be withdrawn ;
The flowers of feeling will fade at the birth,
If the dew of affection be gone.
Be kind to thy brother-wherever you are
The love of a brother shall be
An ornament purer and richer by far
Than pearls from the depths of the sea.
Be kind to thy sister - not many may know
The depth of true sisterly love;
The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below
The surface that sparkles above.
Thy kindness shall bring to thee many sweet hours,
And blessings thy pathway to crown;
Affection shall weave thee a garland of flowers,
More precious than wealth or renown.
SPEAK gently! it is better far
To rule by love than fear;
Speak gently! let not harsh words mar
The good we might.do here.
Speak gently! Love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind,
And gently Friendship's accents flow,
Affection's voice is kind.
Speak gently to the little child,
Its love be sure to gain,-
Teach it, in accents soft and mild,
It may not long remain.
Speak gently to the aged one,
Grieve not the care-worn heart;
The sands of life are nearly run:
Let such in peace depart.
Speak gently to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear;
Pass through this life as best they may,
'Tis full of anxious care.
Speak gently, kindly to the poor,
Let no harsh tones be heard,
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word.
Speak gently to the erring; know
They may have toiled in vain;
Perchance unkindness made them so
Oh! win them back again :-
Speak gently! He who gave his life
To bend man's stubborn will,
When elements were in fierce strife,
Said to them, "Peace, be still!"
Speak gently! 't is a little thing
Dwarfed in the heart's deep well;
The good, the joy which it may bring
Eternity shall tell.
WHEN I set sail on life's young voyage,
'T was upon a stormy sea;
But to cheer me night and day
Through the perils of the way,
With me went companions three,
Three companions kind and faithful,
Dearer far than friend or bride;
Heedless of the stormy weather,
Hand in hand thev came together,
Ever smiling at my side.
One was Health, my lusty comrade,
Cherry-cheeked, and stout of limb.
Though my board was scant of cheer,
And my drink but water clear,
I was thankful, blessed with him.
One was mild-eyed Peace of Spirit,
Who, though storms the welkin swept,
Waking gave me calm reliance,
And, though tempests howled defiance,
Smoothed my pillow when I slept.
One was Hope, my dearest comrade,
Never absent from my breast,
Brightest in the darkest days,
Kindest in the roughest ways,
Dearer far than all the rest;
And though Wealth, nor Fame, nor Station,
Journeyed with me o'er the sea,
Stout of heart, all danger scorning,
Nought cared I, in life's young morning,
For their lordly company.
But, alas! ere night has darkened,
I have lost companions twain ;
And the third, with tearful eyes,
Worn and wasted, often flies,
But as oft returns again.
And, instead of those departed,
Spectres twain around me flit;
Pointing each, with shadowy finger,
Nightly at my couch they linger,
Daily at my board they sit.
Oh, that I so blindly followed
In the hot pursuits of wealth!
Though I've gained the prize of go d
Eyes are dim, and blood is cold, -
I have lost my comrade, Health.
Care instead, the withered beldame,
Steals the enjoyment from my cup-
Hugs me, that I cannot quit her,
Makes my choicest morsels bitter,
Seals the fonts of pleasure up.
Woe is me that Fame ailured me-
She so false, and I so blind!
Sweet her smiles; but in the chase
I have lost the happy face
Of my comrade, Peace of Mind;
And instead, Remorse, pale phantom!
Tracks my feet where'er I go;
All the day I see her scowling,
In my sleep I hear her howling,
Wildly flitting to and fro.
Last of all my dear companions,
Hope! sweet Hope! befriend me yet; Do not from my side depart,
Do not leave my lonely heart,
All to darkness and regret!
Short and sad is now my voyage
O'er this gloom-encompassed sea;
But not cheerless altogether,
Whatsoe'er the wind and weather,
Will it seem, if blessed with thee.
Dim thine eyes are turning earthwards; Shadowy pale and thin thy form. Turned to heaven, thine eyes grow bright, All thy form expands in light,
Soft, and beautiful, and warm.
Look, then, upwards! lead me heavenwards
Guide me o'er this darkening sea!
Pale Remorse shall fade before me,
And the gloom shall brighten o'er me
If I have a friend in thee,
WHEN, from the sacred garden driven,
Man fled before his Maker's wrath,
An angel left her place in heaven,
And crossed the wanderer's sunless path. 'T was Art! sweet Art! New radiance broke Where her light foot flew o'er the ground, And thus with seraph voice she spoke"The curse a blessing shall be found."
She led him through the trackless wild,
Where noontide sunbeam never blazed;
The thistle shrank, the harvest smiled,
And Nature gladdened as she gazed.
Earth's thousand tribes of living things,
At Art's command, to him are given,
The village grows, the city springs,
And point their spires of faith to heaven.
He rends the oak- and bids it ride,
To guard the shores its beauty graced; He smites the rock- upheaved in pride, See towers of strength and domes of taste. Earth's teeming caves their wealth reveal; Fire bears his banner on the wave; He bids the mortal poison heal,
And leaps triumphant o'er the grave.
He plucks the pearls that stud the deep,
Adiniring Beauty's lap to fill;
He breaks the stubborn marble's sleep,
And mocks his own Creator's skill.
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