JUST TWENTY-ONE. 67 EXTRACT. How often is our path Crossed by some being whose bright spirit sheds Dwells many a secret thought which lingers still ANON. JUST TWENTY-ONE. THEY tell me I am free, As though the thought were glad; And, mother, I am sad. I feel that I am wearing Too early, manhood's years That time is onward bearing To conflict and to tears. 68 JUST TWENTY-ONE. I sighed in childhood's hours To rank among the free; And sunshine beamed, how brightly- Free-from my guileless plays Dear mother, and from THEE. Nay! 't is a chain I wear, That binds me from my home- That gall me as I roam. They say I am "my own;" My lot is earth-ward cast I tread the world alone. No! not alone-a crowd Of mad ones past me sweep,- To Fame's unhallowed steep: JUST TWENTY-ONE. They bid me onward press, Till thought itself grows wild, My brain a wilderness My heart with earth defiled! I hear the thundering boom, ROOM I'm with the thickest there!" "STAY,"-saith a voice within, "Be not thy heart too strong; Court not life's battle din, 'T will summon thee ere long. "Seek higher mastery Than winning thee a name The tinsel blazonry Of an unlasting fame! The passions' maddening rush- Oh! gird us for that fight With earth-embattled powers, Thou of Eternal Might, In the fast-coming hours! When inward foes o'erwhelm, Be righteousness our mail, Salvation's hope our helm, When fiery darts assail; 69 70 JUST TWENTY-ONE. God-given strength, to wield The spirit-piercing sword And Faith our battle shield. Not in the tumult strife, Of this stern, mortal life. * * * * Star, that in heaven burns, The changeless and the true The trembling needle turns, Earth's lesser lights above- Firm to thy ray of love! WESTON. OLDEN TIME. 71 OLDEN TIME. THERE'S a song of the olden time, Like the dream of some village chime, Or one that hangs so round my heart, Falling sad o'er the ear, Like the dream of some village chime, And when all this life is gone, Ev'n the hope, lingering now, Like the last of the leaves left on Autumn's sere and faded bough, 'T will seem as still those friends were near Who loved me in youth's early day, If in that parting hour I hear The same sweet notes, and die away, To that song of the olden time, Breathed, like hope's farewell strain, To say in some brighter clime, Life and youth will shine again! T. MOORE. |