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Whereto the climber upward turns his face :
But when he once attains the topmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend.
WEEP not for her! Oh she was far too fair,
Too pure to dwell in this guilt-tainted earth!
The sinless glory and the golden air
Of Zion, seem'd to claim her from her birth :
A spirit wander'd from its native zone
Which soon discovering took her for its own:
Weep not for her!
Weep not for her!-Her span was like the sky
Whose thousand stars shine beautiful and bright:
Like flowers that know not what it is to die;
Like long-link'd shadeless months of Polar light;
Like music floating o'er a waveless lake
While Echo answers from the flowery brake;
Weep not for her!
Weep not for her! she died in early youth
Ere Hope had lost its rich romantic hues :
When human bosoms seem'd the home of truth
And earth still gleam'd with beauty's radiant dews;
Her summer prime waned not to days that freeze;
Her wine of life was run not to the lees:
of him who is mean and cringing under a doubtful and unprosperous fortune.
Ambition often puts men upon doing the meanest offices: so climbing is performed in the same posture with creeping.
But what will not ambition and revenge
Descend to? Who aspires, must down as low
As high he soar'd; obnoxious, first or last,
To basest things. Revenge at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
Weep not for her!-By fleet or slow decay
It never grieved her bosom's core to mark
The playmates of her childhood wane away,
Her prospects wither, or her hopes grow dark;
Translated by her God with spirit shriven
She pass'd as 'twere in smiles from Earth to Heaven : Weep not for her!
Weep not for her!-It was not hers to feel
The miseries that corrode amassing years,
'Gainst dreams of baffled bliss the heart to steel
To wander sad down Age's vale of tears,
As whirl the wither'd leaves from Friendship's tree
And on Earth's wintry wold alone to be:
Weep not for her!
Weep not for her!—She is an Angel now,
And treads the sapphire floors of Paradise,
All darkness wiped from her refulgent brow,
Sin, sorrow, suffering, banish'd from her eyes.
Victorious over Death, to her appear
The vista'd joys of Heaven's eternal year:
Weep not for her!
Weep not for her!—Her memory is the shrine
Of pleasant thoughts, soft as the scent of flowers,
Calm as the windless eve, the sun's decline,
Sweet as the song of birds among the bowers,
Rich as a rainbow with its hues of light
Pure as the moonshine of an autumn night.
Weep not for her!
Weep not for her !—There is no cause for woe;
But rather nerve the spirit that it walk
Unshrinking o'er the thorny paths below,
And from Earth's low defilements keep thee back;
So, when a few fleet severing years have flown,
She'll meet thee at Heaven's gate-and lead thee on.
D. M. MOIR.
An Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester.
THIS rich marble doth inter
The honoured wife of Winchester,
A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir,
Besides what her virtues fair
Added to her noble birth,
More than she could own from earth.
Summers three times eight save one
She has told; alas! too soon
After so short time of breath,
To house with darkness and with death.
Yet had the number of her days
Been as complete as was her praise,
Nature and fate had had no strife
In giving limit to her life.
Her high birth, and her graces sweet Quickly found a lover meet;
The virgin quire for her request
The God that sits at marriage-feast;
He at their invoking came
But with a scarce-well-lighted flame;
And in his garland as he stood,
Ye might discern a cypress-bud.
Once had the early matrons run
To greet her of a lovely son,
And now with second hope she goes,
And calls Lucina to her throes;
But whether by mischance or blame
Atropos for Lucina came;
And with remorseless cruelty
Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree :
The hapless babe before his birth
Had burial, yet not laid in earth,
And the languish'd mother's womb
Was not long a living tomb.
So have I seen some tender slip,
Saved with care from winter's nip,
The pride of her carnation train
Pluck'd by some unheedy swain,
Who only thought to crop the flower
New shot up from vernal shower;
But the fair blossom hangs the head
Side-ways as on a dying-bed,
And those pearls of dew she wears,
Prove to be presaging tears,
Which the sad morn had let fall
On her hastening funeral.
Gentle lady, may thy grave
Peace and quiet ever have;
After this thy travail sore
Sweet rest seize thee evermore,
That to give the world increase,
Shorten'd hast thy own life's lease.
Here, beside the sorrowing
That thy noble house doth bring,
Here be tears of perfect moan
Wept for thee in Helicon,
And some flowers, and some bays
For thy hearse, to strew the ways,
Sent thee from the banks of Came,
Devoted to thy virtuous name;
Whilst thou, bright Saint, high sitt'st in glory,
Next her much like to thee in story,
That fair Syrian shepherdess,
Who after years of barrenness,
The highly-favoured Joseph bore
To him that served for her before,
And at her next birth much like thee,
Through pangs fled to felicity,
Far within the bosom bright
Of blazing majesty and light;
There with thee, new welcome Saint,
Like fortunes may her soul acquaint,
With thee there clad in radiant sheen,
No Marchioness but now a Queen.
EDUCATION begins the gentleman, but reading, good company, and reflection must finish him.
THE forming the manners is as necessary to a finished education, as furnishing the minds of youth.
THE general mistake among us in the educating our children, is that in our daughters we take care of their persons* and
*The reason why so few marriages are happy, is because young ladies spend their time in weaving nets, not in making cages.
neglect their minds, in our sons we are so intent upon adorning their minds that we wholly neglect their bodies.
By education most have been misled;
So they believe, because they so were bred;
The priest continues what the nurse began,
And thus the child imposes on the man.
(The rest I named before nor need repeat;)
But interest is the most prevailing cheat,
The sly seducer both of age and youth
They study that and think they study truth.
When reason fortifies an argument
Weak reason serves to gain the will's ascent,
For souls already warped receive an easy bent.
DRYDEN. Hind and Panther.
QUOTH Hudibras, it is in vain
(I see) to argue 'gainst the grain;
Or, like the stars, incline men to
What they're averse themselves to do;
For when disputes are weary'd out,
'Tis interest still resolves the doubt:
But since no reason can confute ye,
I'll try to force you to your duty.
Hudibras, Book II., Canto 2.
Interest speaks all sorts of languages, and plays all sorts of parts, even that of disinterestedness.
As sometimes in a dead man's face,
To those that watch it more and more,
A likeness hardly seen before
Comes out-to some one of his race:
So, dearest, now thy brows are cold,
I see thee what thou art, and know
Thy likeness to the wise below
Thy kindred with the great of old.