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My never-failing friends are they,
With them I take delight in weal,
And seek relief in woe;
How much to them I owe,
My thoughts are with the Dead; with them
I live in long-past years,
Partake their hopes and fears;
My hopes are with the Dead; anon
My place with them will be,
Through all Futurity;
Robert Southey (1774-1843]
MASTER of human destinies am I!
If sleeping, wake-if feasting, rise before
Save death; but those who doubt or hesitate,
John James Ingalls (1833-1900)
They do me wrong who say I come no more
When once I knock and fail to find you in; For every day I stand outside your door
And bid you wake, and rise to fight and win.
Wail not for precious chances passed away!
Weep not for golden ages on the wane! Each night I burn the records of the day
At sunrise every soul is born again!
Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast?
Dost reel from righteous Retribution's blow? Then turn from blotted archives of the past
And find the future's pages white as snow.
Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell;
Art thou a sinner? Sins may be forgiven; Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell,
Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven.
Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped,
To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb; My judgments seal the dead past with its dead,
But never bind a moment yet to come.
Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep;
I lend my arm to all who say “I can!” No shame-faced outcast ever sank so deep But yet might rise and be again a man!
Walter Malone (1866–
This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:-
Edward Rowland Sill (1841-1887]
THE ARROW AND THE SONG
I shot an arrow into the air,
I breathed a song into the air,
Long, long afterward, in an oak
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882] CALUMNY
A WHISPER woke the air,
A soft, light tone, and low,
Yet barbed with shame and woe. Ah! might it only perish there,
Nor farther go!
But no! a quick and eager ear
Caught up the little, meaning sound;
And so it wandered round
And that-it broke!
It was the only heart it found, -
When first its accents woke.
Frances Sargent Osgood (1811-1850)
THE EFFECT OF EXAMPLE
WE scatter seeds with careless hand,
But for a thousand years
Their fruit appears, In weeds that mar the land,
Or healthful shore.
The deeds we do, the words we say, -
We count them ever past;
But they shall last, In the dread judgment they
And we shall meet.
I charge thee by the years gone by,
Keep thou the one true way,
In work and play, Lest in that world their cry Of woe thou hear.
John Keble (1792–1866)
LITTLE AND GREAT
A TRAVELER on a dusty road
Strewed acorns on the lea;
And grew into a tree.
To breathe its early vows;
To bask beneath its boughs.
The birds sweet music bore
A blessing evermore.
A little spring had lost its way
Amid the grass and fern;
Where weary men might turn;
A ladle at the brink;
But judged that Toil might drink.
By summer never dried,
And saved a life beside.
A dreamer dropped a random thought;
'Twas old, and yet 'twas new; A simple fancy of the brain,
But strong in being true.