LOVE, HOPE, AND PATIENCE IN EDUCATION.
O'ER wayward childhood would'st thou hold firm rule,
And sun thee in the light of happy faces;
Love, Hope, and Patience, these must be thy graces,
And in thine own heart let them first keep school.
For as old Atlas on his broad neck places
Heaven's starry globe, and there sustains it,—so
Do these upbear the little world below
Of Education,-Patience, Love, and Hope.
Methinks, I see them grouped, in seemly show,
The straightened arms upraised, the palms aslope,
And robes that, touching as adown they flow,
Distinctly blend, like snow embossed in snow.
O part them never! If Hope prostrate lie,
Love too will sink and die.
But Love is subtle, and doth proof derive
From her own life that Hope is yet alive;
And bending o'er with soul-transfusing eyes,
And the soft murmurs of the mother dove,
Woos back the fleeting spirit and half-supplies ;-
Thus Love repays to Hope what Hope first gave to Love.
Yet haply there will come a weary day,
When overtasked at length
Both Love and Hope beneath the load give way.
Then with a statue's smile, a statue's strength,
Stands the mute sister, Patience, nothing loth,
And both supporting does the work of both.
Beareth all things.-2 COR. xiii., 7.
GENTLY I took that which ungently came,*
And without scorn forgave:-Do thou the same.
A wrong done to thee think a cat's eye spark
Thou wouldst not see, were not thine own heart dark.
Thine own keen sense of wrong that thirsts for sin,
Fear that the spark self-kindled from within,
Which blown upon will blind thee with its glare,
Or smother'd stifle thee with noisome air.
Clap on the extinguisher, pull up the blinds,
And soon the ventilated spirit finds
Its natural daylight. If a foe have kenn'd,
Or worse than foe, an alienated friend,
A rib of dry rot in thy ship's stout side,
Think it God's message, and in humble pride
With heart of oak replace it ;-thine the gains-
Give him the rotten timber for his pains!
Γνώθι σεαυτὸν !—and is this the prime
-Ε coelo descendit γνῶθι σεαυτὸν.-JUVENAL.
And heaven-sprung adage of the olden time!—
Haply thou mayst know what thyself had made.
Say, canst thou make thyself?-Learn first that trade;-
What hast thou, Man, that thou dar'st call thine own?-
What is there in thee, Man, that can be known ?-
A phantom dim of past and future wrought,
Vain sister of the worm,-life, death, soul, clod-
Ignore thyself, and strive to know thy God!
QUE linquam, aut nihil, aut nihili, aut vix sunt measordes
Do morti;-reddo cætera, Christe! tibi.
TO THE YOUNG ARTIST, KAYSER OF
KAYSERWERTH.
KASYER! to whom, as to a second self,
Nature, or Nature's next-of-kin, the Elf,
Hight Genius, hath dispensed the happy skill
To cheer or soothe the parting friend's, alas!
Turning the blank scroll to a magic glass,
That makes the absent present at our will;
And to the shadowing of thy pencil gives
Such seeming substance, that it almost lives.
Well hast thou given the thoughtful Poet's face!
Yet hast thou on the tablet of his mind
A more delightful portrait left behind-
Ev'n thy own youthful beauty, and artless grace,
Thy natural gladness and eyes bright with glee!
Kayser farewell!
Be wise! be happy! and forget not me.
Beareth all things.-2 COR. xiii., 7.
GENTLY I took that which ungently came,*
And without scorn forgave:-Do thou the same.
A wrong done to thee think a cat's eye spark
Thou wouldst not see, were not thine own heart dark.
Thine own keen sense of wrong that thirsts for sin,
Fear that the spark self-kindled from within,
Which blown upon will blind thee with its glare,
Or smother'd stifle thee with noisome air.
Clap on the extinguisher, pull up the blinds,
And soon the ventilated spirit finds
Its natural daylight. If a foe have kenn'd,
Or worse than foe, an alienated friend,
A rib of dry rot in thy ship's stout side,
Think it God's message, and in humble pride
With heart of oak replace it ;—thine the gains—
Give him the rotten timber for his pains!
-Ε coelo descendit γνῶθι σεαυτὸν.—JUVENAL.
Γνῶθι σεαυτὸν !—and is this the prime
And heaven-sprung adage of the olden time!-
Say, canst thou make thyself?-Learn first that trade;-
Haply thou mayst know what thyself had made.
What hast thou, Man, that thou dar'st call thine own?-
What is there in thee, Man, that can be known ?-
Dark fluxion, all unfixable by thought,
A phantom dim of past and future wrought,
Vain sister of the worm,-life, death, soul, clod—
Ignore thyself, and strive to know thy God!
QUA linquam, aut nihil, aut nihili, aut vix sunt measordes
Do morti;-reddo cætera, Christe! tibi.
TO THE YOUNG ARTIST, KAYSER OF
KAYSERWERTH.
KASYER! to whom, as to a second self,
Nature, or Nature's next-of-kin, the Elf,
Hight Genius, hath dispensed the happy skill
To cheer or soothe the parting friend's, alas!
Turning the blank scroll to a magic glass,
That makes the absent present at our will;
And to the shadowing of thy pencil gives
Such seeming substance, that it almost lives.
Well hast thou given the thoughtful Poet's face!
Yet hast thou on the tablet of his mind
A more delightful portrait left behind-
Ev'n thy own youthful beauty, and artless grace,
Thy natural gladness and eyes bright with glee!
Kayser farewell!
Be wise! be happy! and forget not me.
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