ABSENCE strengtheneth friendship, where the last recollections were kindly; But it must be good wine at the last, or absence shall weaken it daily. A rare thing is faith, and friendship is a marvel among men, Yet strange faces call they friends, and say they believe when they doubt. Those hours are not lost that are spent in cementing affection, Be sparing of advice by words, but teach thy lesson by example; thee. There be some that never had a friend, because they were gross and selfish: Worldliness, and apathy, and pride, leave not many that are worthy; But one who meriteth esteem need never lack a friend; For as thistledown flieth abroad, and casteth its anchor in the soil, So philanthropy yearneth for a heart where it may take root and blossom. YET I hear the child of sensibility moaning at the wintry cold, Wherein the mists of selfishness have wrapped the society of men; He grieveth, and hath deep reasons; for falsehood hath wronged his trust, And the breaches in his bleeding heart have been filled with the briers of suspicion. For alas! how few be friends, of whom charity hath hoped well! How few there be among men who forget themselves for other! Each one seeketh his own, and looketh on his brethren as rivals, Masking envy with friendship, to serve his secret ends. And the world, that corrupteth all good, hath wronged that sacred name, For it calleth any man friend, who is not known for an enemy; board; But who can wonder at their flight from the cold denials of want? Such be as vultures round a carcass, assembled together for the feast: But a sudden noise scareth them, and forthwith are they specks among the clouds. There be few, O child of sensibility, who deserve to have thy confi dence; Yet weep not, for there are some, and such some live for thee: And gladly seek they such as thou art, for seldom find they the occasion. For, though no man excludeth himself from the high capability of friendship, Yet verily is the man a marvel whom truth can write a friend. OF LOVE. THERE is a fragrant blossom, that maketh glad the garden of the heart; Its root lieth deep: it is delicate, yet lasting, as the lilac crocus of autumn: Loneliness and thought are the dews that water it morn and even; Memory and Absence cherish it, as the balmy breathings of the south: Its sun is the brightness of affection, and it bloometh in the borders of Hope; Its companions are gentle flowers, and the brier withereth by its side. I saw it budding in beauty; I felt the magic of its smile; The violet rejoiced beneath it, the rose stooped down and kissed it; And I thought some cherub had planted there a truant flower of Eden, As a bird bringeth foreign seeds, that they may flourish in a kindly soil. I saw and asked not its name; I knew no language was so wealthy, Though every heart of every clime findeth its echo within. And yet what shall I say? Is a sordid man capable of- Love? Can an adulterer perceive it ? women, can he feel its purity? Or he that changeth often, can he know its truth? Longing for another's happiness, yet often destroying its own; Chaste, and looking up to God, as the fountain of tenderness and joy: Quiet, yet flowing deep, as the Rhine among rivers; Lasting, and knowing not change-it walketh with Truth and Sincerity LOVE:- what a volume in a word, an ocean in a tear, The word, the king of words, carved on Jehovah's heart! liberty, But with the world, thou friend and scholar, stain not this pure name; Nor suffer the majesty of Love to be likened to the meanness of desire : For Love is no more such, than seraphs' hymns are discord, LOVE is a sweet idolatry, enslaving all the soul, A mighty spiritual force, warring with the dulness of matter, An angel-mind breathed into a mortal, though fallen, yet how beautiful! All the devotion of the heart in all its depth and grandeur. Behold that pale geranium, pent within the cottage window; How yearningly it stretcheth to the light its sickly, long-stalked leaves ! How it straineth upward to the sun, coveting his sweet influences! Such is the soul that loveth; and so the rose-tree of affection Its every blushing petal basketh in their light, And all its gladness, all its life, is hanging on their love. IF the love of the heart is blighted, it buddeth not again; proachful spirit, Moaning in Eolian strains over the desert of the heart, Where the hot siroccos of the world have withered its one oasis. OF MARRIAGE. SEEK a good wife of thy God, for she is the best gift of his providence; Yet ask not in bold confidence that which he hath not promised. Thou knowest not his good-will:- be thy prayer then submissive thereunto; And leave thy petition to his mercy, assured that he will deal well with thee. If thou art to have a wife of thy youth, she is now living on the earth; Therefore think of her, and pray for her weal; yea, though thou hast not seen her. They that love early become like-minded, and the tempter toucheth them not; They grow up leaning on each other, as the olive and the vine. -Youth longeth for a kindred spirit, and yearneth for a heart that can commune with his own; He meditateth night and day, doting on the image of his fancy. Take heed that what charmeth thee is real, nor springeth of thine own imagination; And suffer not trifles to win thy love; for a wife is thine unto death. The harp and the voice may thrill thee, sound may enchant thine ear, But consider thou, the hand will wither, and the sweet notes turn to discord; The eye, so brilliant at even, may be red with sorrow in the morning; And the sylph-like form of elegance must writhe in the crampings of pain. O HAPPY lot, and hallowed, even as the joy of angels, Where the golden chain of godliness is entwined with the roses of love; But beware thou seem not to be holy, to win favor in the eyes of a creature, For the guilt of the hypocrite is deadly, and winneth thee wrath elsewhere. The idol of thy heart is as thou, a probationary sojourner on earth; Therefore be chary of her soul, for that is the jewel in her casket. Let her be a child of God, that she bring with her a blessing to thy house, A blessing above riches, and leading contentment in its train; woman; And the triple nature of humanity must be bound by a triple chain, For soul, and mind, and body—godliness, esteem, and affection. How beautiful is modesty! it winneth upon all beholders: But a word or a glance may destroy the pure love that should have been for thee. Affect not to despise beauty; no one is freed from its dominion: But regard it not a pearl of price:-it is fleeting as the bow in the clouds. If the character within be gentle, it often hath its index in the countenance: The soft smile of a loving face is better than splendor that fadeth quickly. When thou choosest a wife, think not only of thyself, But of those God may give thee of her, that they reproach thee not for their being: See that he hath given her health, lest thou lose her early and weep; |