180

MAKE YOUR MARK.

For time at last sets all things even

And if we do but watch the hour,
There never yet was human power
Which could evade, if unforgiven,
The patient search and vigil long
Of him who treasures up a wrong.

Should opponents hedge your way,
Make your mark;

Work by night or work by day,
Make your mark;

Struggle manfully and well,

Let no obstacles oppose;
None, right-shielded, ever fell
By the weapons of his foes;
Make your mark.

MORNING, NOON, AND EVENING. 181

What though born a peasant's son;
Make your mark;

Good by poor men can be done;
Make your mark;

Peasants' garbs may warm the cold,
Peasants' words may calm a fear;
Better far than hoarding gold

Is the drying of a tear;
Make your mark.

Life is fleeting as a shade;
Make your mark;

Marks of some kind must be made;
Make your mark ;

Make it while the arm is strong,

In the golden hours of youth;

Never, never, make it wrong;

Make it with the stamp of truth;
Make your mark.

LIFE'S MORNING, NOON, AND EVENING.

L. M. D.

I SAW her when life's tide was high,

When youth was hovering o'er her brow;
When joy was dancing in her eye,

And her cheek blushed hope's crimson glow.

182 MORNING, NOON, AND EVENING.

I saw her mid a fairy throng;

She seemed the gayest of the gay;
I saw her lightly glide along,

'Neath beauty's smile and pleasure's lay.

I saw her in her bridal robe;

The blush of joy was mounting high;
I marked her bosom's heaving throb,
I marked her dark and downcast eye.

I saw her when a mother's love

Asked at her hand a mother's care;
She looked an angel from above,
Hovering around a cherub fair.

I saw her not till, cold and pale,
She slumbered on Death's icy arm;
The rose had faded on her cheek,

Her lip had lost its power to charm.

That eye was dim which brightly shone,
That brow was cold, that heart was still;
The witcheries of that form had flown,
The lifeless clay had ceased to feel.

I saw her wedded to the grave;

Her bridal robes were weeds of death; And o'er her pale, cold brow was hung The damp, sepulchral, icy wreath.

DISASTERS.

183

DISASTERS.

LONGFELLOW.

DISASTERS Come not singly,

But as if they watched and waited,
Scanning one another's motions.

When the first descends, the others
Follow, follow, gathering flock-wise
Round their victim sick and wounded-
First a shadow, then a sorrow,
Till the air is dark with anguish.

WEALTH IS NOT HAPPINESS.

MRS. NORTON,

I HAVE tasted each varied pleasure,
And drank of the cup of delight;
I have danced to the gayest measure,
In the halls of dazzling light.

I have dwelt in a blaze of splendor,
And stood in the courts of kings;

I have snatched at each toy that could render
More rapid the flight of Time's wings.

But vainly I've sought for joy and peace
In the life of light and shade;

And I turn with a sigh to my own dear home,
That home where my childhood played.

184

THE CHARNEL SHIP.

When jewels are sparkling round me,

And dazzling with their rays,

I weep for ties that bound me
In life's first early days.

I sigh for one of the sunny hours,

Ere day was turned to night;

For one of my nosegays of fresh wild flowers,
Instead of these jewels bright.

THE CHARNEL SHIP.

LUCRETIA M. DAVIDSON.

THE breeze blew fair, the waving sea
Curled sparkling round the vessel's side;
The canvas spread with bosom free
Its swan-like pinions o'er the tide.

Evening had gemmed with glittering stars
Her coronet, so dark and grand;
The queen of night with fleecy clouds
Had formed her turban's snowy band.

On, on the stately vessel flew,

With streamer waving far and wide;
When, lo! a bark appeared in view,
And gayly danced upon the tide.

Each way the breeze its wild wing veered,
That way the stranger-vessel turned:

Now near she drew; now, wafted far,

She fluttered, trembled, and returned.