CONTENTS.

DEDICATION VERSESSUITABLE FOR INSCRIPTION ON TITLE PAGES OF ALBUMS.

DEDICATION VERSES - SUITABLE FOR INSCRIPTION ON TITLE PAGES OF ALBUMS.

Goforth, thou little volume,Like Noah’s faithful dove,And bring to darling ----An olive leaf of love.

Goforth, thou little volume,

Like Noah’s faithful dove,

And bring to darling ----

An olive leaf of love.

MyAlbum’s open! Come and see!What! Won’t you waste a line on me?Write but a thought, a word or two,That Memory may revert to you.

MyAlbum’s open! Come and see!

What! Won’t you waste a line on me?

Write but a thought, a word or two,

That Memory may revert to you.

To My Friends:—MyAlbum is a garden spotWhere all my friends may sow,Where thorns and thistles flourish not,But flowers alone may grow.With smiles for sunshine, tears for showers,I’ll water, watch and guard these flowers.

To My Friends:—

MyAlbum is a garden spotWhere all my friends may sow,Where thorns and thistles flourish not,But flowers alone may grow.With smiles for sunshine, tears for showers,I’ll water, watch and guard these flowers.

MyAlbum is a garden spot

Where all my friends may sow,

Where thorns and thistles flourish not,

But flowers alone may grow.

With smiles for sunshine, tears for showers,

I’ll water, watch and guard these flowers.

Goforth, thou little volume,I leave thee to thy fate;To love and friendship trulyThy leaves I dedicate.

Goforth, thou little volume,

I leave thee to thy fate;

To love and friendship truly

Thy leaves I dedicate.

Go, Album! range the gay parterre;From gem to gem, from flower to flower,Select with taste and cull with care,And bring your offering, fresh and rare,To this sweet maiden’s bower!

Go, Album! range the gay parterre;

From gem to gem, from flower to flower,

Select with taste and cull with care,

And bring your offering, fresh and rare,

To this sweet maiden’s bower!

Whenyears elapse,It may, perhaps,Delight us to review these scraps,And live again ’mid scenes so gay,That Time’s rough hand has swept away;For when the eye, bedimmed with age,Shall rest upon each treasured page,Those pleasant hoursThat once were oursShall come again, like Autumn flowers,To bloom and smile upon us hereWhen all things else seem sad and drear;’Twill tune our hearts and make them sing,And turn our Autumn into Spring!

Whenyears elapse,

It may, perhaps,

Delight us to review these scraps,

And live again ’mid scenes so gay,

That Time’s rough hand has swept away;

For when the eye, bedimmed with age,

Shall rest upon each treasured page,

Those pleasant hours

That once were ours

Shall come again, like Autumn flowers,

To bloom and smile upon us here

When all things else seem sad and drear;

’Twill tune our hearts and make them sing,

And turn our Autumn into Spring!

Go, little book, thy destined course pursue,Collect memorials of the just and true,And beg of every friend so nearSome token of remembrance dear.

Go, little book, thy destined course pursue,

Collect memorials of the just and true,

And beg of every friend so near

Some token of remembrance dear.

Aslife flows on from day to day,And this, your book, soon fills,How many may be far awayFrom treasured vales and hills?But there is joy in future timeTo turn the pages o’er,And see within a name or rhymeFrom one you’ll see no more.

Aslife flows on from day to day,And this, your book, soon fills,How many may be far awayFrom treasured vales and hills?

Aslife flows on from day to day,

And this, your book, soon fills,

How many may be far away

From treasured vales and hills?

But there is joy in future timeTo turn the pages o’er,And see within a name or rhymeFrom one you’ll see no more.

But there is joy in future time

To turn the pages o’er,

And see within a name or rhyme

From one you’ll see no more.

Lifeis a volume,From youth to old age,Each year forms a chapter,Each day is a page.May none be more charming,More womanly (manly) true,Than that, pure and noble,Sketched yearly by you.

Lifeis a volume,

From youth to old age,

Each year forms a chapter,

Each day is a page.

May none be more charming,

More womanly (manly) true,

Than that, pure and noble,

Sketched yearly by you.

Manykind wishes will be written here,And none more sincere than mine.But----Words are lighter than the cloud-foamOf the restless ocean’s spray;Vainer than the trembling shadowThat the next hour steals away.By the fall of summer raindropsIs the air as deeply stirred,And the roseleaf that we tread onWill outlive a word.

Manykind wishes will be written here,

And none more sincere than mine.

But----

Words are lighter than the cloud-foam

Of the restless ocean’s spray;

Vainer than the trembling shadow

That the next hour steals away.

By the fall of summer raindrops

Is the air as deeply stirred,

And the roseleaf that we tread on

Will outlive a word.

Wemay write our names in Albums;We may trace them in the sand;We may chisel them in marble,With a firm and skillful hand;But the pages soon are sullied,Soon each name will fade away;Every monument will crumble,Like all earthy hopes, decay.But, dear friend, there is an Album,Full of leaves of snowy white,Where no name is ever tarnished,But forever pure and bright.In that Book of Life, God’s Album,May your name be penned with careAnd may all who here may write,Have their names forever there.

Wemay write our names in Albums;

We may trace them in the sand;

We may chisel them in marble,

With a firm and skillful hand;

But the pages soon are sullied,

Soon each name will fade away;

Every monument will crumble,

Like all earthy hopes, decay.

But, dear friend, there is an Album,

Full of leaves of snowy white,

Where no name is ever tarnished,

But forever pure and bright.

In that Book of Life, God’s Album,

May your name be penned with care

And may all who here may write,

Have their names forever there.

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SENTIMENT and AFFECTION

Peacebe around thee, wherever thou rovest;May life be for thee one summer’s day;And all that thou wish, and all that thou lovest,Come smiling around thy summer way.If sorrow e’er this calm should break,May even thy tears pass off so lightly,Like spring showers, they will only makeThe smiles that follow shine more brightly.

Peacebe around thee, wherever thou rovest;

May life be for thee one summer’s day;

And all that thou wish, and all that thou lovest,

Come smiling around thy summer way.

If sorrow e’er this calm should break,

May even thy tears pass off so lightly,

Like spring showers, they will only make

The smiles that follow shine more brightly.

Maythe chain of friendship formed by the links which are dropped here, serve to unite you more closely in spirit with the friends who have worked it.

May each link be brought to a white heat in the fires of Love; and, forged on the anvils of Truth, may they be strong as iron, yet light as air: keeping you bravely to the duties of Life. And when the chain of human bondage shall be broken, may they become flowers of eternal brightness in the gardens from whence cometh exceeding peace.

Ourlives are albums, written throughWith good or ill—with false or true—And, as the blessed angels turnThe pages of our years,God grant they read the good with smiles,And blot the bad with tears.

Ourlives are albums, written through

With good or ill—with false or true—

And, as the blessed angels turn

The pages of our years,

God grant they read the good with smiles,

And blot the bad with tears.

Thegem cannot be polished without friction, nor man perfected without adversity.

Timeadvances like the slowest tide, but retreats like the swiftest current.

What’sthe use of always frettingAt the trials we shall findEver strewn along our pathway—Travel on, and never mind.

What’sthe use of always fretting

At the trials we shall find

Ever strewn along our pathway—

Travel on, and never mind.

Lifegiveth unto each his space,A span of earth, an arch of sky,And unto each a several grace—To each a separate destiny.And some were born to win and spend,And some to love unto the end.

Lifegiveth unto each his space,

A span of earth, an arch of sky,

And unto each a several grace—

To each a separate destiny.

And some were born to win and spend,

And some to love unto the end.

Thereis another albumFilled with leaves of spotless white,Where no name is ever tarnished,But forever pure and bright.In the Book of Life—God’s album—May your name be penned with care,And may all who here have written,Write their names forever there.

Thereis another album

Filled with leaves of spotless white,

Where no name is ever tarnished,

But forever pure and bright.

In the Book of Life—God’s album—

May your name be penned with care,

And may all who here have written,

Write their names forever there.

Dailywe write our autographs on the minds and hearts of those around us.

“Pooris the friendless master of a world. A world in purchase for a friend, is gain.”

Soslight a favor ’tis you crave,That I can scarce refuse compliance;Nor shall I use the page you gave,To set your champions at defiance.Dear lady, vainly awed, I praiseThat dimpled hand I pressed at parting;Or those dark eyes, beneath whose gazeA cupid lurks equipped for darting.Nor can I hope to lightly touchOn charms so oft the theme of lovers;To add another, while so muchThat beautiful about thee hovers.I can but add one little pearlTo all the gems about thee scattered;And say again, sweet, artless girl,That all thy poets have not flattered.

Soslight a favor ’tis you crave,That I can scarce refuse compliance;Nor shall I use the page you gave,To set your champions at defiance.

Soslight a favor ’tis you crave,

That I can scarce refuse compliance;

Nor shall I use the page you gave,

To set your champions at defiance.

Dear lady, vainly awed, I praiseThat dimpled hand I pressed at parting;Or those dark eyes, beneath whose gazeA cupid lurks equipped for darting.

Dear lady, vainly awed, I praise

That dimpled hand I pressed at parting;

Or those dark eyes, beneath whose gaze

A cupid lurks equipped for darting.

Nor can I hope to lightly touchOn charms so oft the theme of lovers;To add another, while so muchThat beautiful about thee hovers.

Nor can I hope to lightly touch

On charms so oft the theme of lovers;

To add another, while so much

That beautiful about thee hovers.

I can but add one little pearlTo all the gems about thee scattered;And say again, sweet, artless girl,That all thy poets have not flattered.

I can but add one little pearl

To all the gems about thee scattered;

And say again, sweet, artless girl,

That all thy poets have not flattered.

I havetried for a week, and vainly I seekWords of wisdom to write to you here;So, wishing you life free from sorrow and strife,Nor wanting in friends and good cheer,With health—perhaps wealth—Love better than self,And Truth, far the best, to the end;Since content it maintainsWhile existence remains,I subscribe myself, Truly, your friend.

I havetried for a week, and vainly I seek

Words of wisdom to write to you here;

So, wishing you life free from sorrow and strife,

Nor wanting in friends and good cheer,

With health—perhaps wealth—

Love better than self,

And Truth, far the best, to the end;

Since content it maintains

While existence remains,

I subscribe myself, Truly, your friend.

Strengthfor to-day, in house and home,To practice forbearance sweetly;To scatter kind words and loving deeds,Still trusting in God completely.

Strengthfor to-day, in house and home,

To practice forbearance sweetly;

To scatter kind words and loving deeds,

Still trusting in God completely.

A volumeof this kind, it is supposable, will be more or less frequently referred to, in future years, to revive fading recollections and recall pleasant associations; and, therefore, though it is so easy to moralize, it seems eminently fitting that helpful suggestions should accompany familiar autographs.

Let me say, then, that while in your youth a favorable combination of circumstances permits so much of happiness, the conditions of its enjoyment cannot always remain as now.

As the responsibilities, at present borne for you, shall come to rest on your own shoulders, and the darker shades of life’s history are unfolded, you will find the peace, which floweth like a river, only in the degree in which you resolutely perform every known duty; and, forgetting your own wants—whether fancied or real—devote your thoughts, as well as your energies, to making the society in which you move, happier for your being.

That you may indulge in no selfish ease; but bestow, as well as enjoy, a full share of the pleasures of time, and afterward receive a crown of glory, is the earnest wish of your friend—

I wouldthat I could express my mindTo you, dear friend, in scribbling some rhyme;But you know my failing as well as I,And you’d better get another to try.

I wouldthat I could express my mind

To you, dear friend, in scribbling some rhyme;

But you know my failing as well as I,

And you’d better get another to try.

Thatone who can work right on, quietly waiting for recognition, if it come: if not, yet right on, is the true nobleman.

Dostthou know, love, that thy smileMakes the whole world bright for me?Just as sunrise pours a suddenPurple glory on the sea.Ah! had I that power, everShould the world look bright to thee.

Dostthou know, love, that thy smile

Makes the whole world bright for me?

Just as sunrise pours a sudden

Purple glory on the sea.

Ah! had I that power, ever

Should the world look bright to thee.

I knownot what to write about,So many themes are pressing;All good enough in very truth,But quite unprepossessing:Each moment of thy future life,Live holy, whether maid or wife.And let it be thy constant care,Midst earthly joy and sorrow,By watchfulness and fervent prayer,Each this day and to-morrow,To be prepared when Christ shall come,His heaven to make thy final home.

I knownot what to write about,So many themes are pressing;All good enough in very truth,But quite unprepossessing:Each moment of thy future life,Live holy, whether maid or wife.

I knownot what to write about,

So many themes are pressing;

All good enough in very truth,

But quite unprepossessing:

Each moment of thy future life,

Live holy, whether maid or wife.

And let it be thy constant care,Midst earthly joy and sorrow,By watchfulness and fervent prayer,Each this day and to-morrow,To be prepared when Christ shall come,His heaven to make thy final home.

And let it be thy constant care,

Midst earthly joy and sorrow,

By watchfulness and fervent prayer,

Each this day and to-morrow,

To be prepared when Christ shall come,

His heaven to make thy final home.

Oh, those eyes! so calm, serene—Sweetest eyes were ever seen.Will the woes of coming yearsEver shadow them with tears?Shall my life the sunshine own,That last night upon me shone,When, beneath the summer skies,Beamed on me those brown, brown eyes?

Oh, those eyes! so calm, serene—

Sweetest eyes were ever seen.

Will the woes of coming years

Ever shadow them with tears?

Shall my life the sunshine own,

That last night upon me shone,

When, beneath the summer skies,

Beamed on me those brown, brown eyes?

Theselittle souvenirs possess not their greatest value when first written; but as time, with scythe in hand, passes along, and we are left standing, we are not the same, but these lines remain. Some, to cheer the saddened by awakening slumbering memories of better things; and others serving as guide-boards on the road to eternity.

Andthou, too, whosoe’er thou art,That readest this brief psalm,As one by one thy hopes depart,Be resolute and calm.O fear not in a world like this,And thou shalt know e’re long—Know how sublime a thing it isTo suffer and be strong.

Andthou, too, whosoe’er thou art,That readest this brief psalm,As one by one thy hopes depart,Be resolute and calm.

Andthou, too, whosoe’er thou art,

That readest this brief psalm,

As one by one thy hopes depart,

Be resolute and calm.

O fear not in a world like this,And thou shalt know e’re long—Know how sublime a thing it isTo suffer and be strong.

O fear not in a world like this,

And thou shalt know e’re long—

Know how sublime a thing it is

To suffer and be strong.

Presson! our life is not a dreamThough often such its mazes seem.We were not born to live at ease—Ourselves alone to aid and pleaseTo each a daily task is given;A labor that shall fit for heaven,When duty calls, let love grow warm,Amid the sunshine or the storm;With faith, life’s trials boldly breastThen come a conqueror to thy rest.

Presson! our life is not a dream

Though often such its mazes seem.

We were not born to live at ease—

Ourselves alone to aid and please

To each a daily task is given;

A labor that shall fit for heaven,

When duty calls, let love grow warm,

Amid the sunshine or the storm;

With faith, life’s trials boldly breast

Then come a conqueror to thy rest.

Asyou travel through life, scatter kind words and gentle deeds; in so doing, you will enrich your soul. Withhold them, and it tends to poverty.

Mayyour life be like the day—more beautiful in the evening; like the summer—aglow with promise; and, like the autumn, rich with the golden sheaves, where good works and deeds have ripened on the field.

Letthe road be rough and dreary,And its end far out of sight;Foot it bravely—strong or weary;—Trust in God, and do the right.

Letthe road be rough and dreary,

And its end far out of sight;

Foot it bravely—strong or weary;—

Trust in God, and do the right.

Lifeis but a day, at best,Sprung from night, in darkness lost;Hope not sunshine every hour;Fear not—clouds will always lower.

Lifeis but a day, at best,

Sprung from night, in darkness lost;

Hope not sunshine every hour;

Fear not—clouds will always lower.

Allthe paths of faith, tho’ severed wide,O’er which the feet of prayerful reverence passMeet at the gate of Paradise at last.

Allthe paths of faith, tho’ severed wide,

O’er which the feet of prayerful reverence pass

Meet at the gate of Paradise at last.

IfI wake, or if I sleep,Still the memory I keepOf the tender light that liesIn the depths of those brown eyes.

IfI wake, or if I sleep,

Still the memory I keep

Of the tender light that lies

In the depths of those brown eyes.

Beblessings scattered o’er thy way,My gladsome, joyous, laughing sprite;Be thy whole life one summer’s dayWithout the night.

Beblessings scattered o’er thy way,

My gladsome, joyous, laughing sprite;

Be thy whole life one summer’s day

Without the night.

Onthis leaf, in memory prest,May my name forever rest.

Onthis leaf, in memory prest,

May my name forever rest.

Onthis page I’ll write, simply to inditeMy name as your friend.

Onthis page I’ll write, simply to indite

My name as your friend.

Maythy life happy be,Is my dear wish for thee.

Maythy life happy be,

Is my dear wish for thee.

Itnever pays to fret and growlWhen fortune seems our foe,The better bred will push aheadAnd strike the braver blow;For luck is work,And those who shirkShould not lament their doom,But yield the play,And clear the way,That better men have room.

Itnever pays to fret and growl

When fortune seems our foe,

The better bred will push ahead

And strike the braver blow;

For luck is work,

And those who shirk

Should not lament their doom,

But yield the play,

And clear the way,

That better men have room.

Desirenot to live long, but well;How long we live, not years, but actions, tell.

Desirenot to live long, but well;

How long we live, not years, but actions, tell.

Meannessshun, and all its train;Goodness seek, and life is gain.

Meannessshun, and all its train;

Goodness seek, and life is gain.

A beautifullife ends not in death.

Roundwent the autograph; hither it came,For me to write in; so here’s my name.

Roundwent the autograph; hither it came,

For me to write in; so here’s my name.

Passingthrough life’s field of action,Lest we part before its end,Take within your modest volume,This memento from a friend.

Passingthrough life’s field of action,

Lest we part before its end,

Take within your modest volume,

This memento from a friend.

Wemeet and part—the world is wide;We journey onward side by sideA little while, and then againOur paths diverge. A little pain—A silent yearning of the heartFor what has grown of life a part;A shadow passing o’er the sun,Then gone, and light again has come.We meet and part, and then forget;And life holds blessings for us yet.

Wemeet and part—the world is wide;

We journey onward side by side

A little while, and then again

Our paths diverge. A little pain—

A silent yearning of the heart

For what has grown of life a part;

A shadow passing o’er the sun,

Then gone, and light again has come.

We meet and part, and then forget;

And life holds blessings for us yet.

Whenthings don’t go to suit you,And the world seems upside down,Don’t waste your time in fretting,But drive away the frown.

Whenthings don’t go to suit you,

And the world seems upside down,

Don’t waste your time in fretting,

But drive away the frown.

Old friends and true friends!Don’t talk to me of new friends;The old are the best,Who stand the test,Who book their name asthroughfriends.

Old friends and true friends!

Don’t talk to me of new friends;

The old are the best,

Who stand the test,

Who book their name asthroughfriends.

Mayyour coffee and slanders against you be ever the same—without grounds.

Theworld is full of fools.And he who would none view,Must shut himself in a cave,And break his mirror, too.

Theworld is full of fools.

And he who would none view,

Must shut himself in a cave,

And break his mirror, too.

Methinkslong years have flown,And, sitting in her old arm-chair,---- has older grown.With silver sprinkled in her hair,Her album thus she holds,And turns its many pages o’er,And wonders if it still containsThe memories of yore.As o’er these pages thus she runs,With many a sigh and kiss,Then suddenly she stops and says,“Who could have written this?”

Methinkslong years have flown,

And, sitting in her old arm-chair,

---- has older grown.

With silver sprinkled in her hair,

Her album thus she holds,

And turns its many pages o’er,

And wonders if it still contains

The memories of yore.

As o’er these pages thus she runs,

With many a sigh and kiss,

Then suddenly she stops and says,

“Who could have written this?”

Itnever pays to wreck the healthIn drudging after gain;And he is sold who thinks that goldThe cheapest bought with pain.An humble lot,A cosey cot,Have tempted even kings;For station high,That wealth will buy,Not oft contentment brings.

Itnever pays to wreck the health

In drudging after gain;

And he is sold who thinks that gold

The cheapest bought with pain.

An humble lot,

A cosey cot,

Have tempted even kings;

For station high,

That wealth will buy,

Not oft contentment brings.

Rememberme, is all I askAnd, if remembrance be a task,Forget me.

Rememberme, is all I ask

And, if remembrance be a task,

Forget me.

----, life is all before you,Stretched out in its misty sheenAnd the future, though now hiddenHolds much joy for thee, I ween.Why, then, seek to know what’s coming?It is forming day by dayBut your heart, in blind out-reaching,Makes to-morrow of to-day.“Life is real—life is earnest;”And the heroine in the strifeIs the one who leaves the future—Living but the present life;—Lives it truly, nobly, grandly;Thus prepares for coming fate;Strives to make her living perfect;—Learns to labor and to wait.

----, life is all before you,

Stretched out in its misty sheen

And the future, though now hidden

Holds much joy for thee, I ween.

Why, then, seek to know what’s coming?

It is forming day by day

But your heart, in blind out-reaching,

Makes to-morrow of to-day.

“Life is real—life is earnest;”And the heroine in the strifeIs the one who leaves the future—Living but the present life;—Lives it truly, nobly, grandly;Thus prepares for coming fate;Strives to make her living perfect;—Learns to labor and to wait.

“Life is real—life is earnest;”

And the heroine in the strife

Is the one who leaves the future—

Living but the present life;—

Lives it truly, nobly, grandly;

Thus prepares for coming fate;

Strives to make her living perfect;—

Learns to labor and to wait.

Theviolet is for faithfulness,Which in me shall abide:Hoping, likewise, from your heartYou will not let it slide.

Theviolet is for faithfulness,

Which in me shall abide:

Hoping, likewise, from your heart

You will not let it slide.

Thisis thine album. May it beA source of happiness to thee.And may each page that’s written o’er,Be better than the one before.

Thisis thine album. May it be

A source of happiness to thee.

And may each page that’s written o’er,

Be better than the one before.

’Tisa terrible fate, my dear miss,To be asked to write in a book like this;For, scratch my head as hard as I may—I’ve such a skull—And if I try to moralize,Or vent my thoughts in sentiment,Or attempt to laud you to the skies,Or spread myself on compliment,I’m so awful dull,That my efforts would prove futility;For the sex of your kind, are of that turn of mind,That morals, verse and flattery,Have to you been so oft defined,You are full.If rhyming I try, adorable Miss,The first I think of, is dear little Kiss,Or some such nonsense as connubial bliss,Or changing your title “Mrs.” from “Miss;”But that’s prosaical.To give you advice, I’d never presume;—Incompetence may be the reason for that;—To wish you long life and a blest happy homeIs aged and stale, exhausted and flat,And excruciatingly formal.Now, what to do I do not know,Or how to make my paragraph;So I’ll doff my hat, and make my bowAnd send this as my autograph.

’Tisa terrible fate, my dear miss,To be asked to write in a book like this;For, scratch my head as hard as I may—I’ve such a skull—

’Tisa terrible fate, my dear miss,

To be asked to write in a book like this;

For, scratch my head as hard as I may—

I’ve such a skull—

And if I try to moralize,Or vent my thoughts in sentiment,Or attempt to laud you to the skies,Or spread myself on compliment,I’m so awful dull,

And if I try to moralize,

Or vent my thoughts in sentiment,

Or attempt to laud you to the skies,

Or spread myself on compliment,

I’m so awful dull,

That my efforts would prove futility;For the sex of your kind, are of that turn of mind,That morals, verse and flattery,Have to you been so oft defined,You are full.

That my efforts would prove futility;

For the sex of your kind, are of that turn of mind,

That morals, verse and flattery,

Have to you been so oft defined,

You are full.

If rhyming I try, adorable Miss,The first I think of, is dear little Kiss,Or some such nonsense as connubial bliss,Or changing your title “Mrs.” from “Miss;”But that’s prosaical.

If rhyming I try, adorable Miss,

The first I think of, is dear little Kiss,

Or some such nonsense as connubial bliss,

Or changing your title “Mrs.” from “Miss;”

But that’s prosaical.

To give you advice, I’d never presume;—Incompetence may be the reason for that;—To wish you long life and a blest happy homeIs aged and stale, exhausted and flat,And excruciatingly formal.

To give you advice, I’d never presume;—

Incompetence may be the reason for that;—

To wish you long life and a blest happy home

Is aged and stale, exhausted and flat,

And excruciatingly formal.

Now, what to do I do not know,Or how to make my paragraph;So I’ll doff my hat, and make my bowAnd send this as my autograph.

Now, what to do I do not know,

Or how to make my paragraph;

So I’ll doff my hat, and make my bow

And send this as my autograph.

Maythere be just clouds enough o’er your life to cause a glorious sunset.

Thatevery kindly wish and thought,By friends expressed within these pages,Be yours, and trials common to us allMay cross your path by “easy stages.”

Thatevery kindly wish and thought,

By friends expressed within these pages,

Be yours, and trials common to us all

May cross your path by “easy stages.”

Rememberme when far away,And only half awake;Remember me on your wedding-day,And send a slice of cake.

Rememberme when far away,

And only half awake;

Remember me on your wedding-day,

And send a slice of cake.

Whenworth and beauty prompt the line,Perhaps a pen as poor as mineMay be forgivenTo try and write of things divine,And think of heaven!But pause, rash verse! and don’t abuseA bashful maiden’s ear with newsOf her own beauty!And yet no other theme I’ll choose,Or think a duty!So, then, for fear I might offend,I’ll say,God bless her!—and thus end.

Whenworth and beauty prompt the line,

Perhaps a pen as poor as mine

May be forgiven

To try and write of things divine,

And think of heaven!

But pause, rash verse! and don’t abuse

A bashful maiden’s ear with news

Of her own beauty!

And yet no other theme I’ll choose,

Or think a duty!

So, then, for fear I might offend,

I’ll say,God bless her!—and thus end.

Theearth can boast no purer tie,No brighter, richer gem,No jewel of a lovelier dye,Than Friendship’s diadem.Then may this ray of light divineNe’er from our bosoms fade;But may it on our pathway shine,Till death our hearts invade.

Theearth can boast no purer tie,No brighter, richer gem,No jewel of a lovelier dye,Than Friendship’s diadem.

Theearth can boast no purer tie,

No brighter, richer gem,

No jewel of a lovelier dye,

Than Friendship’s diadem.

Then may this ray of light divineNe’er from our bosoms fade;But may it on our pathway shine,Till death our hearts invade.

Then may this ray of light divine

Ne’er from our bosoms fade;

But may it on our pathway shine,

Till death our hearts invade.

---- is your name,Single is your station;Happy be the little manThat makes the alteration.

---- is your name,

Single is your station;

Happy be the little man

That makes the alteration.

Oh!love is such a strange affair;So strange to all.It cometh from aboveAnd lighteth like a doveOn some.But some it never hitsUnless it gives them fits.Oh, hum.

Oh!love is such a strange affair;

So strange to all.

It cometh from above

And lighteth like a dove

On some.

But some it never hits

Unless it gives them fits.

Oh, hum.

Thycheerful, gentle ways, I do admire:Thy future, to be happy, I greatly desire;Thy trusting confidence, may I require;Thy firm friend to be, will I aspire.

Thycheerful, gentle ways, I do admire:

Thy future, to be happy, I greatly desire;

Thy trusting confidence, may I require;

Thy firm friend to be, will I aspire.

Asa slight token of esteem,Accept these lines from me;So plain and simple, they do seemUnworthy such as thee.But soon these traced lines will fadeAnd disappear—’tis their doom.May you, unlike them, be arrayedIn a perpetual bloom.

Asa slight token of esteem,

Accept these lines from me;

So plain and simple, they do seem

Unworthy such as thee.

But soon these traced lines will fade

And disappear—’tis their doom.

May you, unlike them, be arrayed

In a perpetual bloom.

Inmemory’s wreath may one bud be entwined for me.

Weare all placed here to do something. It is forus, and not forothers, to find out what that something is, and then, with all the energy of which we are capable, honestly and prayerfully to be about our business.

Oh!think of me some dayWhen I am far away;I’ll pray thy days be longAnd joyous as the songOf sweet birds singing near,Thy heart with love to cheer.

Oh!think of me some day

When I am far away;

I’ll pray thy days be long

And joyous as the song

Of sweet birds singing near,

Thy heart with love to cheer.

Mayjoy thy spirit fill,All care and sorrow cease;Remember ’tis His willWho hath spoken, “Peace!”

Mayjoy thy spirit fill,

All care and sorrow cease;

Remember ’tis His will

Who hath spoken, “Peace!”

Infair and sunny beauty, or gray ’neath evening skies,The purple hills from misty vales, upward to heaven rise:Their rugged side we scarce can see o’er-decked with fern and heather,That rings its scented violet bells through fair and stormy weather;So may thy life be clothed with flowers, and breathe a purer air,Fresh from the “everlasting hills,” knowing no grief or care,—And if the sunny sky must pale, as pales the setting sun,May it only show the stars are near, peeping out, one by one!

Infair and sunny beauty, or gray ’neath evening skies,

The purple hills from misty vales, upward to heaven rise:

Their rugged side we scarce can see o’er-decked with fern and heather,

That rings its scented violet bells through fair and stormy weather;

So may thy life be clothed with flowers, and breathe a purer air,

Fresh from the “everlasting hills,” knowing no grief or care,—

And if the sunny sky must pale, as pales the setting sun,

May it only show the stars are near, peeping out, one by one!

Thesefew lines to you are tendered,By a friend sincere and true;Hoping but to be rememberedWhen I’m far away from you.

Thesefew lines to you are tendered,

By a friend sincere and true;

Hoping but to be remembered

When I’m far away from you.

Work, while yet the daylight shines,With a loving heart and true,For golden years are fleeting by,And we are passing, too.Wait not for to-morrow’s sunTo beam upon thy way,For all that thou can’st call thine own,Is in thisone to-day.Then learn to make the most of life—Make glad each passing day—For time will never bring thee backThe chances swept away.Leave no tender word unsaid—Do good while life shall last;—You know the mill can never grindWith thewater that is past.Let not the hours we’ve spent together,Go past as nothing, by;Forget me not, e’en though you mustRemember with a sigh.

Work, while yet the daylight shines,With a loving heart and true,For golden years are fleeting by,And we are passing, too.

Work, while yet the daylight shines,

With a loving heart and true,

For golden years are fleeting by,

And we are passing, too.

Wait not for to-morrow’s sunTo beam upon thy way,For all that thou can’st call thine own,Is in thisone to-day.

Wait not for to-morrow’s sun

To beam upon thy way,

For all that thou can’st call thine own,

Is in thisone to-day.

Then learn to make the most of life—Make glad each passing day—For time will never bring thee backThe chances swept away.

Then learn to make the most of life—

Make glad each passing day—

For time will never bring thee back

The chances swept away.

Leave no tender word unsaid—Do good while life shall last;—You know the mill can never grindWith thewater that is past.

Leave no tender word unsaid—

Do good while life shall last;—

You know the mill can never grind

With thewater that is past.

Let not the hours we’ve spent together,Go past as nothing, by;Forget me not, e’en though you mustRemember with a sigh.

Let not the hours we’ve spent together,

Go past as nothing, by;

Forget me not, e’en though you must

Remember with a sigh.

Thanksgiving-dayagain is here,And turkey is the leading question;I wish, with heartiness sincere,That you may have a good digestion.

Thanksgiving-dayagain is here,

And turkey is the leading question;

I wish, with heartiness sincere,

That you may have a good digestion.

Thoughmany flowers have faded from my life,And clouds obscure the brightness of its sky;This have I learned: we can do much to makeOur lives a blessing and our words a power,If what we find to do, for Christ’s dear sake,We do with faithfulness, from hour to hour.

Thoughmany flowers have faded from my life,

And clouds obscure the brightness of its sky;

This have I learned: we can do much to make

Our lives a blessing and our words a power,

If what we find to do, for Christ’s dear sake,

We do with faithfulness, from hour to hour.

Itmay occur in after lifeThat you, I trust, a happy wife,Will former happy hours retrace,Recall each well-remembered face.At such a moment I but ask—I hope ’twill be a pleasant task—That you’ll remember as a friendOne who’ll prove true e’en to the end.

Itmay occur in after life

That you, I trust, a happy wife,

Will former happy hours retrace,

Recall each well-remembered face.

At such a moment I but ask—

I hope ’twill be a pleasant task—

That you’ll remember as a friend

One who’ll prove true e’en to the end.

I sawtwo clouds at morning,Tinged by the morning sun,And in the dawn they floated onAnd mingled into one;I thought that morning cloud was blest,It moved so sweetly to the west.Such be your gentle motion,Till life’s last pulse shall beat,And you float on in joy to meetA calmer sea, where storms shall cease—A purer sky, where all is peace.

I sawtwo clouds at morning,

Tinged by the morning sun,

And in the dawn they floated on

And mingled into one;

I thought that morning cloud was blest,

It moved so sweetly to the west.

Such be your gentle motion,

Till life’s last pulse shall beat,

And you float on in joy to meet

A calmer sea, where storms shall cease—

A purer sky, where all is peace.

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