Be kind to the young!-in thy youth's merry day But dim not bright youth with the shadow of strife; Be kind to the aged-not long at thy side Hath the travel-worn pilgrim to stay; Oh, let him not deem that when summoned from earth, Give him still a warm nook of thy heart and thy hearth; Be kind to the aged-be kind. Be kind to the simple-although the full light Of genius to thee may be given ; Yet look not with scorn, in the pride of thy might, On a brother less favoured by heaven. He is not to be blamed if the God-given ray Hath but faintly illumined his mind; Thine own may be quenched by a cloud on the way; Be kind to the erring-full many a heart Unkindness hath driven astray; But the breath of reproach may but sharpen the smart That first sent it out of the way. Ye would not insult with a gibe or a sneer, THE WASTE OF WAR. Give me the gold that war has cost, And I will buy each rood of soil I'll clothe each shivering wretch on earth, Vesture befitting banquet mirth, Which kings might envy and admire. ANON. In every vale, on every plain, A school shall glad the gazer's sight; Where every poor man's child may gain Pure knowledge, free as air and light. I'll build asylums for the poor, By age or ailment made forlorn ; And none shall thrust them from the door, Or sting with looks, and words of scorn. I'll link each alien hemisphere; Help honest men to conquer wrong; Art, Science, Labour, nerve and cheerReward the Poet for his song. In every crowded town shall rise And coarseness learn both art and taste. To every province shall belong Collegiate structures, and not fewFill'd with a truth-exploring throng, And teachers of the good and true. In every free and peopled clime A vast Walhalla hall shall stand; A marble edifice sublime, For the illustrious of the land; A Pantheon for the truly great, To honour or to hold their dust. A temple to attract and teach Round the whole earth shall gladly rise; Household Words. LABOUR'S THANKSGIVING HYMN. THAT I must work I thank thee, God! Which doth mature the hardy grain, Stand stedfast in my self-respect. I thank thee, God, that I must toil! He wears the fetter of his clan; Wealth, birth, and rank, have hedged him in ; I heed but this-that I am man, And to the great of mind akin. Thank God, that like the mountain oak, Thank God for toil, for hardships, whence Which leaves our bosoms flesh and blood; |