Part 2
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 bow And send this as my autograph.
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MAY there be just clouds enough o’er your life to cause a glorious sunset.
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THAT every 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.”
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REMEMBER me when far away, And only half awake; Remember me on your wedding-day, And send a slice of cake.
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WHEN worth 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.
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THE earth 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 divine Ne’er from our bosoms fade; But may it on our pathway shine, Till death our hearts invade.
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---- is your name, Single is your station; Happy be the little man That makes the alteration.
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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.
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THY cheerful, 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.
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AS a 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.
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IN memory’s wreath may one bud be entwined for me.
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WE are all placed here to do something. It is for _us_, and not for _others_, 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.
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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.
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MAY joy thy spirit fill, All care and sorrow cease; Remember ’tis His will Who hath spoken, “Peace!”
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IN fair 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!
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THESE few lines to you are tendered, By a friend sincere and true; Hoping but to be remembered When I’m far away from you.
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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 sun To beam upon thy way, For all that thou can’st call thine own, Is in this _one to-day_.
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 grind With the _water that is past_.
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.
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THANKSGIVING-DAY again is here, And turkey is the leading question; I wish, with heartiness sincere, That you may have a good digestion.
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THOUGH many 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.
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IT may 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.
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I SAW two 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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WHEN on this page you chance to look, Just think of me and close the book.
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BE a good girl, and you will be a true woman.
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MAY thy darkest hours in life be well lighted with the sunshine of contentment.
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YOURS sincerely—although merely—
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WHEN the golden sun is setting, And your heart from care is free, When o’er a thousand things you’re thinking, Will you sometimes think of me?
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HOW long we live, not years, but actions tell; That man lives twice who lives the first life well. Make then, while yet ye may, your God your friend. Whom Christians worship, yet not comprehend. The trust that’s given, guard; and to yourself be just; For, live we how we can, yet die we must.
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LIVE well; how long or short, permit to Heaven; They who forgive most, shall be most forgiven.
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SOAR not too high to fall, but stoop to rise; We masters grow of all that we despise.
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YOUR fate is but the common fate of all; Unmingled joys here to no man befall.
>--*MISCELLANEOUS.*--<
MAY e’en thy failings lean to virtue’s side.
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HOURS are golden links—God’s token— Reaching heaven, but one by one; Take them, lest the chain be broken Ere thy pilgrimage be done.
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HOUSE beautiful—your book, from end to end, And every page a room to lodge a friend; Fain would I enter with a seemly grace, Attired and mannered as befits the place; But best endeavor falls below the aim And rests at last, content to leave a name.
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THE brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational; But, he whose noble soul its fear subdues. And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.
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FLING wide the portals of your heart! Make it a temple set apart From earthly use, for Heaven’s employ— Adorned with prayer and love and joy; So shall your Sovereign enter in And new and noble life begin.
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WE could count time by heart-throbs; he most lives who thinks most, speaks the noblest, acts the best.
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WE ourselves shape the joys and fears Of which the life to come is made, And fill our future atmosphere With sunshine or with shade.
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WHEN the name that I write here is dim on the page, And the leaves of your album are yellow with age, Still think of me kindly, and do not forget That, wherever I am, I remember you yet.
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THE massive gates of circumstance Are turned upon the slightest hinge, And thus some seeming pettiest chance, Oft gives to life its after tinge.
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OH, for a home in Zululand, or Arctic regions cold, A peasant’s cot or hermit’s hut, midst solitude untold, With Kaffirs or with Hottentots, in Egypt or Leone— ’Twere bliss to live in _any_ spot where albums are unknown.
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IN times of prosperity our friends are many, But the time of adversity tries and proves them.
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GEMS of price are deeply hidden, ’Neath the rugged rocks concealed; What would ne’er come forth unbidden, To thy search may be revealed.
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WHILE the fading flowers of pleasure, Spring spontaneous from the soil, Thou wilt find the harvest’s treasure Yields alone to patient toil.
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IF recollections of friends brighten moments or sadness, What a fund of delight is here treasured for thee! If advice and kind wishes bring goodness and gladness, How perfect and happy thy future must be.
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THE tissues of the Life to be— We weave with colors all our own, And in the field of Destiny, We reap as we have sown.
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THERE is seldom a line of glory written upon earth’s face, but a line of suffering runs parallel with it; and they that read the lustrous syllables of the one, and stoop not to decipher the spotted and worn inscription of the other, get the least half of the lesson that earth has to give.
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LEAF green on ground of white, My name, I fain would write That you remember still In June or in December chill, We two are friends.
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OH, wayward mortal who these books invented, Why was’t thou not by some kind hand prevented? And thereby kept from many a luckless swain, The direful knowledge that he lacked a brain— Lacked it, at least, where poetry was needed, Like the poor wight who here has not succeeded.
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THROUGH days of doubt and darkness, In fear and trembling breath, Through mists of sin and sorrow, In tears and grief and death;
Through days of light and gladness, Through days of love and life, Through smiles and joy and sunshine, Through days with beauty rife;
The Lord of life and glory, The King of earth and sea, The Lord who guarded Israel; Keep watch, sweet friend, o’er thee.
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TRUTH—Freedom—Virtue—these have power; If rightly cherished, to uphold, sustain, And bless thy spirit, in its darkest hour.
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THY own trim, modest form, Is always neatly clad, Thou surely will make the tidiest wife That ever husband had.
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AMONG the many friends who claim A kind remembrance in thy heart, I too, would add my simple name, Among the rest.
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MAY God’s mercy ever guide thee, Safe o’er all thy thorny road; And His grace what’er betide thee, Lead thee home to His abode.
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THE large are not the sweetest flowers; The long are not the happiest hours; Much talk doth not much friendship tell; Few words are best—I wish you well.
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LET your life be like a snowflake, which leaves a mark, but not a stain.
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BEGIRT with roses of the royal June, A resurrected day swings highest morn In every year; and so through life I pray Nay never failing changes, bring their day, And flames of love in swinging censers rise While all thy thoughts leads on toward the skies.
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SMALL service is true service while it last; Of friends, however humble, scorn not one: The daisy, by the shadow that it cast, Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun.
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MAKE good use of time, if thou lovest eternity; yesterday cannot be recalled—to-morrow cannot be secured—to-day only is thine, which, if once lost, is lost forever.
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IN time we transact business for eternity; whatever, therefore, we do now, should be done well.
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MAY each thought be pure, and sincere, Addressed upon these spotless pages; Reflections fond, they’ll always prove, Youthful friend, through many ages.
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THEY who have light in themselves, will not revolve as satellites.
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THROUGH time we’ll change, and then, This little book will somewhat bind us; You’ll take it up, and think of me And all the joys we’ve left behind us.
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AS the shadow of the sun is largest when his beams are lowest, so we are always least when we make ourselves the greatest.
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ACROSS the page of spotless white Friends trail the pen, and in our sight Grow precious all the lines they write.
As for some white-sailed ship at sea, So, little book, my watch for thee; Return with freight of love to me.
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EVERY hour comes to us charged with duty, and the moment it is past, returns to Heaven to register itself how spent.
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THERE’S a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.
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OUR eyes see all around in gloom or glow, Hues of their own, fresh borrowed from the heart.
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WRITE your name by kindness, love and mercy upon the hearts of those you come in contact with, and you will never be forgotten.
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LET Fate do her worst; there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, she cannot destroy; They come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled, You may break—you may shatter the vase, if you will; But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
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IF you wish success in life, make perseverance your bosom friend, experience your wise counsel, caution your elder brother, and hope your guardian genius.
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COUNT that day lost whose low descending sun Views from thy hand no worthy action done.
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’TIS but a trifle that you ask, But this you will admit, That trifles, more than greater tasks, Will sometimes strain our wit. I wish thee health, and wealth, and joy, As others have before: And were I in poetic mood, I’d surely wish thee more.
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OUR greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.
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HERE’S a sigh for those who love me, And a smile for those who hate, And whatever sky’s above me, Here’s a heart for every fate.
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IN all thy humors, whether grave or mellow, Thou art such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow; Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen, about thee, There is no living with thee, nor without thee.
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MAY you live in bliss, from sorrow away, Having plenty laid up for a rainy day; And when you are ready to settle in life, May you find a good husband and make a good wife.
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I WRITE here a name which I hope shall be known To all of the ages which follow my own. ‘How conceited!’ you say; but my lines shall remain; ’Tis my hope, you’ll discover, not I, that is vain.
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OUR lives are albums; each new day’s a page As spotless as the leaf on which I write. Whene’er those books of ours shall be read, May few unwise inscriptions meet the sight.
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ON the broad highway of action Friends of worth are far and few; But when one has proved her friendship, Cling to her who clings to you.
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WERE mine the power I’d twine for thee A crown of jewels rare; Each gem should be a kingdom, Each pearl an humble prayer.
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THERE are few friends in this wide world That love is fond and true; But ---- when you count them o’er Place me among the few.
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THERE is a small and simple flower That twines around the humblest cot, And in the sad and lonely hours It whispers low: “Forget me not.”
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WHEN asked in an album to write, I feel quite inclined to refuse; For what should I dare to indite That would a young lady amuse? Not wit, for I have none of that, Nor romance—my fancy is tame; And compliments sound so flat, I’m forced to write merely my name.
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MAY you always be happy, And live at your ease; Get a kind husband, And do as you please.
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TRUE friends, like ivy and the wall, Both stand together or together fall.
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BEAUTY is but a vain, a fleeting good, A shining gloss that fadeth suddenly, A flower that dies when almost in the bud, A bright glass that breaketh suddenly; A fleeting good, a glass, a gloss, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within the hour.
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MAY happiness ever be thy lot, Wherever thou shalt be; And joy and pleasure light the spot That may be home to thee.
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HOW sweet to have a faithful friend, In whom we can confide: To bless us if we act aright, And if we err to chide.
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HOPE the best, get ready for the worst, and take what God sends.
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BE content with the lot God has marked out for you. Love, honor and obey Him in all things, and your last days will be peaceful and happy.
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MAY the morn of thy life be bright and joyous, the noontide peaceful and happy, and the sunset gloriously hopeful, is the wish of your friend.
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LIFE, Death and Immortality—these three—the first, the Road—the second, the Gate. May you walk safely the first, pass triumphantly the second, and rest forever in the third.
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MAY the Angels twine for thee A wreath of immortality.
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YES, ----, I will write my name In here, as you request; And, if to you its all the same, I’ll add a line—though rather tame— For Critics eyes, as my bequest.
My wishes and my hopes for you, Find glad expression here; Although, indeed, it’s very true, There is no room for all that’s due To one we hold so dear.
Good health—first wish of all— Of all God’s gifts the best; A happy heart, that loves to call On Him who notes the sparrow’s fall And promises sweet rest.