Page 61—Naughtiness Land
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Govern Your Temper Oh, Govern your temper! For music, the sweetest, Was never so sweet— Nor one-half so divine, As a heart kept in tune, Which, the moment thou greetest, Breathes harmony dearer Than notes can combine! Never say it is nature. And may not be cured; One tithe of the time, Which to music we yield Would render the conquest Of temper insured, And bring us more music Than a song e'er revealed. Oh, govern your temper! For roses, the fairest, Were never so fair, Nor so rich in perfume, As the flowers, which e'en thou, Chilly winter sparest— The flowers of the heart, Which unchangingly bloom! Never think it is nature— For oh! if it be, The sooner the spirit Of nature is shown That the spirit of heaven Is higher than she, The sooner, the longer, Will love be our own. |
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Where Do You Live I knew a man, and his name was Horner, He used to live at Grumble Corner,— Grumble Corner, in Cross Patch Town,— And he never was seen without a frown. He grumbled at this, he grumbled at that; He growled at the dog, he growled at the cat; He grumbled at morning, he grumbled at night, And to grumble and growl was his chief delight. He grumbled so much at his wife, that she Began to grumble as well as he; And all the children wherever they went Reflected their parents' discontent. If the sky was dark and betokened rain, Then Mr. Horner was sure to complain; And if there was never a cloud about, He'd grumble because of threatened drought. One day, as I loitered along the street, My old acquaintance I chanced to meet. Whose face was without the look of care And the ugly frown it used to wear. "I may be mistaken, perhaps," I said. As, after saluting, I turned my head; "But it is, and it isn't, the Mr. Horner Who lived so long at Grumble Corner." I met him next day, and I met him again, In melting weather, in pouring rain; When stocks were up and when stocks were down; But a smile, somehow, had replac'd the frown. It puzzled me much, and so, one day, I seized his hand in a friendly way, And said "Mr. Horner, I'd like to know What can have happened to change you so." He laughed a laugh that was good to hear, For it told of a conscience calm and clear, And he said, with none of the old-time drawl, "Why, I've changed my residence, that is all." "Changed your residence?" "Yes," said Horner, "It wasn't healthy at Grumble Corner, And so I've moved: 'twas a change complete; And you'll find me now at Thanksgiving Street." And every day, as I move along The streets, so filled with busy throng, I watch each face, and can always tell Where men, and women, and children dwell. And many a discontented mourner Is spending his days at Grumble Corner, Sour and sad, whom I long to entreat To take a house in Thanksgiving Street. |
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Temper Bad temper, go, You shall never stay with me; Bad temper, go, You and I shall never agree. For I will always be kind, and mild, And gentle pray to be, And do to others as I wish That they should do to me. Temper bad With me shall never stay; Temper bad Can never be happy and gay. |
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