Page images
PDF
EPUB

THE END OF ALL EARTHLY GREATNESS.

Was come, and, faithful to His promise, stood,
Prepared to walk with her through death's dark vale.
And now her eyes grew bright, and brighter still,—
Too bright for ours to look upon, suffused

With many tears, and closed without a cloud.
They set as sets the morning star, which goes
Not down behind the darkened west, nor hides
Obscured among the tempests of the sky,
But melts away into the light of heaven.

THE END OF ALL EARTHLY GREATNESS.

THE glories of our birth and state

Are shadows, not substantial things;

There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings;

Sceptre and crown

Must tumble down,

And in the dust be equal made

With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords do reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill;
But their strong nerves at last must yield,
They tame but one another still;
Early or late

They stoop to fate,

And must yield up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives, creep to death.

Y

169

The garland withers on your brow:

Then boast no more your mighty deeds! For on Death's purple altar, now,

See where the victor victim bleeds;
All heads must come

To the cold tomb :

Only the actions of the just

Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.

[graphic]
[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed]

THE WORN WEDDING-RING.

YOUR wedding-ring wears thin, dear wife; ah, summers not a few, Since I put it on your finger first, have passed o'er me and you; And, love, what changes we have seen-what cares and pleasures, too, Since you became my own dear wife, when this old ring was new.

Oh, blessings on that happy day, the happiest of my life,

When, thanks to God, your low, sweet "Yes" made you my loving

wife;

Your heart will say the same, I know, that day's as dear to you,
That day that made me yours, dear wife, when this old ring was new.

How well do I remember now your young sweet face that day!
How fair you were, how dear you were, my tongue could hardly say,
Nor how I doated on you-ah, how proud I was of you;
But did I love you more than now, when this old ring was new?

No-no; no fairer were you then than at this hour to me;
And, dear as life to me this day, how could you dearer be?
As sweet your face might be that day as now it is, 'tis true,
But did I know your heart as well when this old ring was new?

Oh, partner of my gladness, wife, what care, what grief is there
For me you would not bravely face, with me you would not share?
Oh, what a weary want had every day, if wanting you,
Wanting the love that God made mine, when this old ring was new!

Years bring fresh links to bind us, wife-young voices that are here, Young faces round our fire that make their mother's yet more dear, Young, loving hearts, your care each day makes yet more like to you, More like the loving heart made mine when this old ring was new.

RETIREMENT FROM THE WORLD.

173

And, bless'd be God! all He has given are with us yet; around Our table, every precious life lent to us still is found;

Though cares we've known, with hopeful hearts the worst we've struggled through :

Bless'd be His name for all His love since this old ring was new!

The past is dear; its sweetness still our memories treasure yet;
The griefs we have together borne, we would not now forget;
Whatever, wife, the future brings, heart unto heart still true,
We'll share as we have shared all else since this old ring was new.

And if God spare us 'mongst our sons and daughters to grow old,
We know His goodness will not let your heart or mine grow cold;
Your aged eyes will see in mine all they've still shown to you,
And mine in yours all they have seen since this old ring was new.

And Oh, when death shall come at last to bid me to my rest,
May I die looking in those eyes, and resting on that breast!
O, may my parting gaze be bless'd with the dear sight of you,
Of those fond eyes-fond as they were when this old ring was new!

RETIREMENT FROM THE WORLD.

How various his employments whom the world

Calls idle; and who justly in return

Esteems that busy world an idler too!

Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his pen,
Delightful industry enjoyed at home,

And Nature, in her cultivated trim

Dressed to his taste, inviting him abroad

Can he want occupation who has these?

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »