Chapter I: Pack My Trunk

What shall I pack up to carry
From the old year to the new?
I'll leave out the frets that harry,
Thoughts unjust and doubts untrue.

Angry words--ah, how I rue them!
Selfish deeds and choices blind;
Any one is welcome to them!
I shall leave them all behind.

Plans? the trunk would need be double.
Hopes? they'd burst the stoutest lid.
Sharp ambitions? last year's stubble!
Take them, old year! Keep them hid!

All my fears shall be forsaken,
All my failures manifold;
Nothing gloomy shall be taken
To the new year from the old.

But I'll pack the sweet remembrance
Of dear Friendship's least delight;
All my jokes--I'll carry _them_ hence;
All my store of fancies bright;

My contentment--would 'twere greater!
All the courage I possess;
All my trust--there's not much weight there!
All my faith, or more, or less;

All my tasks; I'll not abandon
One of these--nay pride, my health;
Every trivial or grand one
Is a noble mine of wealth.

And I'll pack my choicest treasures:
Smiles I've seen and praises heard,
Memories of unselfish pleasures,
Cheery looks, the kindly word.

Ah, my riches silence cavil!
To my rags I bid adieu!
Like a Croesus I shall travel
From the old year to the new!

--Amos R. Wells.

The stars shine over the earth,
The stars shine over the sea;
The stars look up to the mighty God,
The stars look down on me.
The stars have lived for a million years
A million years and a day;
But God and I shall love and live
When the stars have passed away.

OPPORTUNITY RENEWED

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 ride 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.
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 shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep
But yet might rise and be again a man.
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.

--Walter Malone.

Though life is made up of mere bubbles
'Tis better than many aver,
For while we've a whole lot of troubles
The most of them never occur.

--Nixon Waterman.

A happy lot must sure be his--
The lord, not slave, of things--
Who values life by what it is
And not by what it brings.

--John Sterling.

A BUILDER'S LESSON

"How shall I a habit break?"
As you did that habit make.
As you gathered you must lose;
As you yielded, now refuse.

Thread by thread the strands we twist
Till they bind us neck and wrist;
Thread by thread the patient hand
Must untwine ere free we stand.
As we builded, stone by stone,
We must toil--unhelped, alone--
Till the wall is overthrown.

But remember: as we try,
Lighter every test goes by;
Wading in, the stream grows deep
Toward the center's downward sweep;
Backward turn--each step ashore
Shallower is than that before.

Ah, the precious years we waste
Leveling what we raised in haste;
Doing what must be undone
Ere content or love be won!
First across the gulf we cast
Kite-borne threads, till lives are passed,
And habit builds the bridge at last!

BUILDING

We are building every day
In a good or evil way,
And the structure, as it grows,
Will our inmost self disclose,

Till in every arch and line
All our faults and failings shine;
It may grow a castle grand,
Or a wreck upon the sand.

Do you ask what building this
That can show both pain and bliss,
That can be both dark and fair?
Lo, its name is character!

Build it well, whate'er you do;
Build it straight and strong and true;
Build it clear and high and broad;
Build it for the eye of God.

--I. E. Dickenga.

Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou livest
Live well, how long or short permit to heaven.

--John Milton.

HOLY HABITS

Slowly fashioned, link by link,
Slowly waxing strong,
Till the spirit never shrink,
Save from touch of wrong.

Holy habits are thy wealth,
Golden, pleasant chains;
Passing earth's prime blessing--health,
Endless, priceless gains.

Holy habits give thee place
With the noblest, best,
All most godlike of thy race,
And with seraphs blest.

Holy habits are thy joy,
Wisdom's pleasant ways,
Yielding good without alloy,
Lengthening, too, thy days.

Seek them, Christian, night and morn;
Seek them noon and even;
Seek them till thy soul be born
Without stains--in heaven.

--Thomas Davis.

MAKE HASTE, O MAN! TO LIVE

Make haste, O man! to live,
For thou so soon must die;
Time hurries past thee like the breeze;
How swift its moments fly.
Make haste, O man! to live.

Make haste, O man! to do
Whatever must be done,
Thou hast no time to lose in sloth,
Thy day will soon be gone.
Make haste, O man! to live.

To breathe, and wake, and sleep,
To smile, to sigh, to grieve,
To move in idleness through earth,
This, this is not to live.
Make haste, O man! to live.

The useful, not the great;
The thing that never dies,
The silent toil that is not lost,
Set these before thine eyes.
Make haste, O man! to live.

Make haste, O man! to live.
Thy time is almost o'er;
Oh! sleep not, dream not, but arise,
The Judge is at the door.
Make haste, O man! to live.

--Horatius Bonar.

TEACH ME TO LIVE

Teach me to live! 'Tis easier far to die--
Gently and silently pass away--
On earth's long night to close the heavy eye
And waken in the glorious realms of day.

Teach me that harder lesson--how to live;
To serve thee in the darkest paths of life;
Arm me for conflict now, fresh vigor give,
And make me more than conqueror in the strife.

Teach me to live thy purpose to fulfill;
Bright for thy glory let my taper shine;
Each day renew, remold this stubborn will;
Closer round thee my heart's affections twine.

Teach me to live for self and sin no more;
But use the time remaining to me yet;
Not mine own pleasure seeking as before,
Wasting no precious hours in vain regret.

Teach me to live; no idler let me be,
But in thy service hand and heart employ.
Prepared to do thy bidding cheerfully--
Be this my highest and my holiest joy.

Teach me to live--my daily cross to bear,
Nor murmur though I bend beneath its load.
Only be with me, let me feel thee near,
Thy smile sheds gladness on the darkest road.

Teach me to live and find my life in thee,
Looking from earth and earthly things away.
Let me not falter, but untiringly
Press on, and gain new strength and power each day.

Teach me to live with kindly words for all,
Wearing no cold repulsive brow of gloom,
Waiting with cheerful patience till thy call
Summons my spirit to her heavenly home.

OPPORTUNITY

Master of human destinies am I,
Fame, love, and fortune on my footsteps wait,
Cities and fields I walk; I penetrate
Deserts and seas remote, and, passing by
Hovel and mart and palace, soon or late
I knock, unbidden, once at every gate!
If sleeping, wake--if feasting, rise--before
I turn away. It is the hour of fate,
And they who follow me reach every state
Mortals desire, and conquer every foe
Save death; but those who doubt, or hesitate,
Condemned to failure, penury, and woe,
Seek me in vain and uselessly implore;
I answer not, and I return no more.

--John James Ingalls.

THREE DAYS

So much to do; so little done!
Ah! yesternight I saw the sun
Sink beamless down the vaulted gray--
The ghastly ghost of yesterday.

So little done; so much to do!
Each morning breaks on conflicts new;
But eager, brave, I'll join the fray,
And fight the battle of to-day.

So much to do; so little done!
But when it's o'er--the victory won--
O then, my soul, this strife and sorrow
Will end in that great, glad to-morrow!

--James Roberts Gilmore.

JUSTICE

Three men went out one summer night;
No care had they or aim.
They dined and drank. Ere we go home
We'll have, they said, a game.

Three girls began that summer night
A life of endless shame,
And went through drink, disease, and death
As swift as racing flame.

Lawless, homeless, foul, they died;
Rich, loved, and praised, the men.
But when they all shall meet with God,
And Justice speaks, what then?

--Stopford Augustus Brooke.

OPPORTUNITY IMPROVED

This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:
There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;
And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged
A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords
Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner
Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes.
A craven hung along the battle's edge,
And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel--
That blue blade that the king's son bears--but this
Blunt thing----!" he snapt and flung it from his hand,
And lowering crept away and left the field.
Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead,
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,
And ran and snatched it and, with battle-shout
Lifted afresh, he hewed his enemy down,
And saved a great cause that heroic day.

--Edward Rowland Sill.

DUM VIVIMUS VIVAMUS

Live while you live, the epicure would say,
And seize the pleasures of the passing day!
Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries,
And give to God each moment as it flies!
Lord, in my views let both united be;
I live in pleasure when I live to thee.

--Philip Doddridge.

It is bad to have an empty purse,
But an empty head is a whole lot worse.

--Nixon Waterman.

Shut your mouth, and open your eyes,
And you're sure to learn something to make you wise.

--Nixon Waterman.

THE COMMON LOT

Once, in the flight of ages past,
There lived a man, and who was he?
Mortal! howe'er thy lot be cast,
That man resembled thee.

Unknown the region of his birth;
The land in which he died unknown;
His name has perished from the earth;
This truth survives alone:

That joy and grief and hope and fear,
Alternate triumphed in his breast;
His bliss and woe--a smile, a tear!
Oblivion hides the rest.

He suffered--but his pangs are o'er;
Enjoyed--but his delights are fled;
Had friends--his friends are now no more;
And foes--his foes are dead.

He saw whatever thou hast seen;
Encountered all that troubles thee;
He was--whatever thou hast been;
He is--what thou shalt be.

The rolling seasons, day and night,
Sun, moon, and stars, the earth and man,
Erewhile his portion, life, and light,
To him exist in vain.

The clouds and sunbeams, o'er his eye
That once their shades and glory threw,
Have left in yonder silent sky
No vestige where they flew.

The annals of the human race,
Their ruins, since the world began,
Of him afford no other trace
Than this--there lived a man.

--James Montgomery.

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call to-day his own;
He who, secure within, can say,
"To-morrow, do thy worst; for I have lived to-day.
Be fair or foul, or rain or shine,
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been has been, and I have had my hour."

--Horace, tr. by John Dryden.

PROEM

If this little world to-night
Suddenly should fall through space
In a hissing, headlong flight,
Shriveling from off its face,
As it falls into the sun,
In an instant every trace
Of the little crawling things--
Ants, philosophers, and lice,
Cattle, cockroaches, and kings,
Beggars, millionaires, and mice,
Men and maggots--all as one
As it falls into the sun--
Who can say but at the same
Instant, from some planet far,
A child may watch us and exclaim,
"See the pretty shooting star!"

--Oliver Herford.

DOING AND BEING

Think not alone to _do_ right, and fulfill
Life's due perfection by the simple worth
Of lawful actions called by justice forth,
And thus condone a world confused with ill!
But fix the high condition of thy will
To _be_ right, that its good's spontaneous birth
May spread like flowers springing from the earth
On which the natural dews of heaven distill;
For these require no honors, take no care
For gratitude from men--but more are blessed
In the sweet ignorance that they are fair;
And through their proper functions live and rest,
Breathing their fragrance out with joyous air,
Content with praise of bettering what is best.

--William Davies.

And, since we needs must hunger, better for man's love
Than God's truth! better for companions sweet
Than great convictions! let us bear our weights
Preferring dreary hearths to desert souls.

--Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

RICHES

Since all the riches of this world
May be gifts from the devil and earthly kings,
I should suspect that I worshiped the devil
If I thanked my God for worldly things.

--William Blake.

Trust to the Lord to hide thee,
Wait on the Lord to guide thee,
So shall no ill betide thee
Day by day.
Rise with his fear before thee,
Tell of the love he bore thee,
Sleep with his shadow o'er thee,
Day by day.

Four things a man must learn to do
If he would make his record true:
To think without confusion clearly;
To love his fellow-men sincerely;
To act from honest motives purely;
To trust in God and heaven securely.

--Henry van Dyke.

Each moment holy is, for out from God
Each moment flashes forth a human soul.
Holy each moment is, for back to him
Some wandering soul each moment home returns.

--Richard Watson Gilder.

At thirty man suspects himself a fool;
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty chides his infamous delay,
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve;
In all the magnanimity of thought
Resolves, and re-resolves; then dies the same.

--Edward Young.

Abundance is the blessing of the wise;
The use of riches in discretion lies;
Learn this, ye men of wealth: a heavy purse
In a fool's pocket is a heavy curse.

--From the Greek.

FRIEND AND FOE

Dear is my friend, but my foe too
Is friendly to my good;
My friend the thing shows I _can_ do,
My foe the thing I should.

--Johann C. F. von Schiller.

How does the soul grow? Not all in a minute;
Now it may lose ground, and now it may win it;
Now it resolves, and again the will faileth;
Now it rejoiceth, and now it bewaileth;
Now its hopes fructify, then they are blighted;
Now it walks sunnily, now gropes benighted;
Fed by discouragements, taught by disaster,
So it goes forward, now slower, now faster;
Till, all the pain past and failure made whole,
It is full grown, and the Lord rules the soul.

--Susan Coolidge.

Life is too short to waste
In critic peep or cynic bark,
Quarrel, or reprimand.
'Twill soon be dark;
Up! mind thine own aim, and
God speed the mark!

--Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow-fall in the river,
A moment white--then melts forever;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place;
Or like the rainbow's lovely form,
Evanishing amid the storm.

--Robert Burns.

I saw a farmer plow his land who never came to sow;
I saw a student filled with truth to practice never go;
In land or mind I never saw the ripened harvest grow.

--Saadi, tr. by James Freeman Clarke.

CARES AND DAYS

To those who prattle of despair
Some friend, methinks, might wisely say:
Each day, no question, has its care,
But also every care its day.

--John Sterling.

What imports
Fasting or feasting? Do thy day's work; dare
Refuse no help thereto; since help refused
Is hindrance sought and found.

--Robert Browning.

I go to prove my soul!
I see my way as birds their trackless way.
I shall arrive! What time, what circuit first,
I ask not; but unless God send his hail
Or blinding fireballs, sleet or stifling snow,
In some time, his good time, I shall arrive:
He guides me and the bird. In his good time.

--Robert Browning.

Art thou in misery, brother? Then, I pray,
Be comforted; thy grief shall pass away.

Art thou elated? Ah! be not too gay;
Temper thy joy; this, too, shall pass away.

Whate'er thou art, where'er thy footsteps stray,
Heed the wise words: "This, too, shall pass away."

We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths,
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
Life's but a means unto an end; that end
Beginning, mean, and end to all things--God.

--Philip James Bailey.

WE DEFER THINGS

We say, and we say, and we say,
We promise, engage, and declare,
Till a year from to-morrow is yesterday
And yesterday is--where?

--James Whitcomb Riley.

To be sincere. To look life in the eyes
With calm, undrooping gaze. Always to mean
The high and truthful thing. Never to screen
Behind the unmeant word the sharp surprise
Of cunning; never tell the little lies
Of look or thought. Always to choose between
The true and small, the true and large, serene
And high above Life's cheap dishonesties.

The soul that steers by this unfading star
Needs never other compass. All the far,
Wide waste shall blaze with guiding light, though rocks
And sirens meet and mock its straining gaze.
Secure from storms and all Life's battle-shocks
It shall not veer from any righteous ways.

--Maurice Smiley.

The lily's lips are pure and white without a touch of fire;
The rose's heart is warm and red and sweetened with desire.
In earth's broad fields of deathless bloom the gladdest lives are those
Whose thoughts are as the lily and whose love is like the rose.

--Nixon Waterman.

We shape ourselves the joy or fear
Of which the coming life is made,
And fill our future's atmosphere
With sunshine or with shade.

The tissue of the life to be
We weave with colors all our own,
And in the field of destiny
We reap as we have sown.

--John Greenleaf Whittier.

THE ROUND OF THE WHEEL

The miller feeds the mill, and the mill the miller;
So death feeds life, and life, too, feeds its killer.

--John Sterling.

If I were dead I think that you would come
And look upon me, cold and white, and say,
"Poor child! I'm sorry you have gone away."

But just because my body has to live
Through hopeless years, you do not come and say,
"Dear child, I'm glad that you are here to-day."

Who heeds not experience, trust him not; tell him
The scope of our mind can but trifles achieve;
The weakest who draws from the mine will excel him--
The wealth of mankind is the wisdom they leave.

--John Boyle O'Reilly.

A pious friend one day of Rabia asked
How she had learned the truth of Allah wholly;
By what instructions was her memory tasked?
How was her heart estranged from the world's folly?

She answered, "Thou who knowest God in parts
Thy spirit's moods and processes canst tell:
I only know that in my heart of hearts
I have despised myself and loved him well."

There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

--William Shakespeare.

THE DESERT'S USE

Why wakes not life the desert bare and lone?
To show what all would be if she were gone.

--John Sterling.

So live that, when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan which moves
To that mysterious realm where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not like the quarry slave at night
Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.

--William Cullen Bryant.

The time is short.
If thou wouldst work for God it must be now.
If thou wouldst win the garlands for thy brow,
Redeem the time.

I sometimes feel the thread of life is slender;
And soon with me the labor will be wrought;
Then grows my heart to other hearts more tender;
The time is short.

The man who idly sits and thinks
May sow a nobler crop than corn;
For thoughts are seeds of future deeds,
And when God thought, the world was born.

--George John Romanes.

Thought is deeper than all speech,
Feeling deeper than all thought;
Souls to souls can never teach
What unto themselves was taught.

--Christopher Pearse Cranch.

That thou mayst injure no man dovelike be,
And serpentlike that none may injure thee.

The poem hangs on the berry bush
When comes the poet's eye.
The street begins to masquerade
When Shakespeare passes by.

--William C. Gannett.

Be thou a poor man and a just
And thou mayest live without alarm;
For leave the good man Satan must,
The poor the Sultan will not harm.

--From the Persian.

Diving, and finding no pearls in the sea,
Blame not the ocean; the fault is in thee!

--From the Persian.

All habits gather by unseen degrees;
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.

--John Dryden.

Habits are soon assumed, but when we strive
To strip them off 'tis being flayed alive.

--William Cowper.

So live that when the mighty caravan,
Which halts one night-time in the Vale of Death,
Shall strike its white tents for the morning march,
Thou shalt mount onward to the Eternal Hills,
Thy foot unwearied, and thy strength renewed
Like the strong eagle's for the upward flight.

And see all sights from pole to pole,
And glance and nod and bustle by,
And never once possess our soul
Before we die.

--Matthew Arnold.

Catch, then, O catch the transient hour;
Improve each moment as it flies;
Life's a short summer--man a flower.

--Dr. Samuel Johnson.

This world's no blot for us
Nor blank; it means intensely, and means good:
To find its meaning is my meat and drink.

--Robert Browning.

What is life?
'Tis not to stalk about, and draw fresh air,
Or gaze upon the sun. 'Tis to be free.

--Joseph Addison.

I see the right, and I approve it too,
Condemn the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue.

--Ovid.

God asks not "To what sect did he belong?"
But, "Did he do the right, or love the wrong?"

--From the Persian.

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

One wept all night beside a sick man's bed:
At dawn the sick was well, the mourner dead.

--From the Persian.

'Tis life whereof our nerves are scant,
O life, not death, for which we pant;
More life and fuller that I want.

--Alfred Tennyson.

AGE AND DEATH

MATURITY, VICTORY, HEAVEN

A DEFIANCE TO OLD AGE

Thou shalt not rob me, thievish Time,
Of all my blessings or my joy;
I have some jewels in my heart
Which thou art powerless to destroy.

Thou mayest denude mine arm of strength,
And leave my temples seamed and bare;
Deprive mine eyes of passion's light,
And scatter silver o'er my hair.

But never, while a book remains,
And breathes a woman or a child,
Shalt thou deprive me whilst I live
Of feelings fresh and undefiled.

No, never while the earth is fair,
And Reason keeps its dial bright,
Whate'er thy robberies, O Time,
Shall I be bankrupt of delight.

Whate'er thy victories o'er my frame,
Thou canst not cheat me of this truth:
That, though the limbs may faint and fail,
The spirit can renew its youth.

So, thievish Time, I fear thee not;
Thou'rt powerless on this heart of mine;
My precious jewels are my own,
'Tis but the settings that are thine.

--Charles Mackay.

SIMPLE FAITH

You say, "Where goest thou?" I cannot tell
And still go on. If but the way be straight
I cannot go amiss! Before me lies
Dawn and the Day! the Night behind me; that
Suffices me; I break the bounds; I see,
And nothing more; believe, and nothing less.
My future is not one of my concerns.

A MORNING THOUGHT

What if some morning, when the stars were paling,
And the dawn whitened, and the East was clear,
Strange peace and rest fell on me from the presence
Of a benignant Spirit standing near,

And I should tell him, as he stood beside me,
"This is our Earth--most friendly Earth, and fair;
Daily its sea and shore through sun and shadow
Faithful it turns, robed in its azure air;

"There is blest living here, loving and serving,
And quest of truth, and serene friendships dear;
But stay not, Spirit! Earth has one destroyer--
His name is Death; flee, lest he find thee here!"

And what if then, while the still morning brightened,
And freshened in the elm the summer's breath,
Should gravely smile on me the gentle angel,
And take my hand and say, "My name is Death."

--Edward Rowland Sill.

On parent knees, a naked, new-born child,
Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled:
So live that, sinking in thy last long sleep,
Calm thou may'st smile while all around thee weep.

--From the Persian.

EMMAUS

Abide with us, O wondrous guest!
A stranger still, though long possessed;
Our hearts thy love unknown desire,
And marvel how the sacred fire
Should burn within us while we stray
From that sad spot where Jesus lay.

So when our youth, through bitter loss
Or hopes deferred, draws near the cross,
We lose the Lord our childhood knew
And God's own word may seem untrue;
Yet Christ himself shall soothe the way
Towards the evening of our day.

And though we travel towards the west
'Tis still for toil, and not for rest;
No fate except that life is done;
At Emmaus is our work begun;
Then let us watch lest tears should hide
The Lord who journeys by our side.

NOT NOW BUT THEN

Take the joys and bear the sorrows--neither with extreme concern!
Living here means nescience simply; 'tis next life that helps to learn.
Shut those eyes next life will open--stop those ears next life will
teach
Hearing's office; close those lips next life will give the power of
speech!
Or, if action more amuse thee than the passive attitude,
Bravely bustle through thy being, busy thee for ill or good,
Reap this life's success or failure! Soon shall things be unperplexed,
And the right or wrong, now tangled, lie unraveled in the next.

--Robert Browning.

CHEERFUL OLD AGE

Ah! don't be sorrowful, darling,
And don't be sorrowful, pray;
For taking the year together, my dear,
There isn't more night than day.

'Tis rainy weather, my darling;
Time's waves they heavily run;
But taking the year together, my dear,
There isn't more cloud than sun.

We are old folks now, my darling,
Our heads are growing gray;
And taking the year together, my dear,
You will always find the May.

We have had our May, my darling,
And our roses long ago;
And the time of year is coming, my dear,
For the silent night and snow.

And God is God, my darling,
Of night as well as day,
And we feel and know that we can go
Wherever he leads the way.

Ay, God of night, my darling;
Of the night of death so grim;
The gate that leads out of life, good wife,
Is the gate that leads to him.

For age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars invisible by day.

At sixty-two life has begun;
At seventy-three begin once more;
Fly swifter as thou near'st the sun,
And brighter shine at eighty-four.
At ninety-five
Shouldst thou arrive,
Still wait on God, and work and thrive.

--Oliver Wendell Holmes.

For what is age but youth's full bloom,
A riper, more transcendent youth?
A weight of gold is never old.

Thy thoughts and feelings shall not die,
Nor leave thee, when gray hairs are nigh,
A melancholy slave;
But an old age serene and bright,
And lovely as a Lapland night,
Shall lead thee to thy grave.

--William Wordsworth.

Fill, brief or long, my granted years
Of life with love to thee and man;
Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest,
But let my last days be my best.

--John Greenleaf Whittier.

An age so blest that, by its side,
Youth seems the waste instead.

--Robert Browning.

ON THE EVE OF DEPARTURE

At the midnight, in the silence of the sleep-time,
When you set your fancies free,
Will they pass to where--by death, fools think, imprisoned--
Low he lies who once so loved you, whom you love so,
--Pity me?

O to love so, be so loved, yet so mistaken!
What had I on earth to do
With the slothful, with the mawkish, the unmanly?
Like the aimless, helpless, hopeless, did I drivel
--Being--who?

One who never turned his back, but marched breast forward,
Never doubted clouds would break,
Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,
Sleep to wake.

No, at noonday, in the bustle of man's work-time,
Greet the unseen with a cheer!
Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be,
"Strive and thrive!" cry, "Speed,--fight on, fare ever
There as here!"

--Robert Browning.

Let no one till his death
Be called unhappy. Measure not the work
Until the day's out and the labor done;
Then bring your gauges.

--Elizabeth Barrett Browning.