1. Take this book, my boys,
Earnestly peruse it;
Much of after lies
In the way ye use it:
Keep it neat and clean;
For, remember, in it,
Every stain that's seen,
Marks a thoughtless minute.
2. Life is like a book,
Time is like a printer,
Darting now his look
Where has gloomed no winter.
Thus he'll look, and on,
Till each page allotted,
Robert, thee and John,
Printed be or blotted.
3. Youth's a sunny beam,
Dancing o'er a river,
With a flashing gleam,
Then away forever.
Use it while ye may,
Not in childish mourning,—
Not in childish play,
But in useful learning.
4. As your years attain
Life's meridian brightness,
Hourly seek and gain
Genuine politeness: This lives not in forms,
As too many teach us,—
Not in open arms,
Not in silken speeches,
5. Not in haughty eye,
Not in artful dealing,
Not within the sigh
Of a mimicked feeling:
But its lights preside
Rich in nature's splendor,
Over honest pride,
Gentleness and candor.
6. Slight ye not the soul
For the frame's demerit;
Oft a shattered bowl
Holds a mighty spirit:
Never search a breast
By thy ruby's glances;
Pomp's a puppet guest,
Danced by circumstances.
7. What is good and great,
Sense can soon determine;
Prize it though ye meet,
Or in rags or ermine.
Fortune's truly blind;
Fools may be her captors;
But the wealth of mind Stands above their scepters.
8. Value not the lips
Swiftest kept in motion,
Fleetly-sailing ships
Draw no depth of ocean:
Snatch the chary gleam,
From the cautious knowing
For the deepest stream
Scarcely lisps 'tis flowing.
9. Cull from bad and good
Every seeming flower,
Store it up as food
For some hungry hour:
Press its every leaf,
And remember, Johnny,
Even weeds the chief
May have drops of honey.
10. Pomp and power alone
Never make a blessing;
Seek not e'en a throne
By one wretch distressing.
Better toil a slave
For the blood-earned penny,
Than be rich, and have
A curse on every guinea.
11. Think, my gentle boys,
Every man a brother!
That's where honor lies, Nay, but greatness rather:
One's the mystic whole,
Lordly flesh won't know it;
But the kingly soul,
Sees but vice below it.
12. Robert, thoughts like these,
Store you more than money;
Read them not to please,
But to practice, Johnny.
Artless though their dress,
As an infant's dimple,
Truth is none the lessFor being truly simple.
QUESTIONS.—1. What did the writer tell Robert and John to do with the book, given them? 2. What use did he tell them to make of Youth?
[!-- Marker --] LESSON XXVII.
AV A RI'' CIOUS, greedy after gain.
IN' TI MATE, close in friendship.
EA' GER NESS, ardent desire.
FRU GAL' I TY, wise economy.
AC QUI SI'' TIONS, gains.
AF' FLU ENCE, great wealth.
SUC' CES SION, regular order.
MOIL' ING, drudging; laboring.
DIS CON TIN' U ED, ceased.
AS SI DU' I TY, untiring diligence.
DIS GUST' ED, greatly dissatisfied.
IN DULG' ED, gratified.
MON' STROUS, very large.
SUC CEED' ING, following.
MAT' TOCK, pick-ax.
UN DER MINE', dig under.
O' MEN, sign; token.
IM AG' IN ED, conceived.
WHANG, THE MILLER.
GOLDSMITH.
1. Whang, the miller, was naturally avaricious; nobody loved money better than he, or more respected those that had it. When people would talk of a rich man in company, Whang would say, "I know him very well, he and I have been very long acquainted; he and I are intimate."
2. But, if a poor man was mentioned, he had not the least knowledge of the man; he might be very well, for aught he knew; but he was not fond of making many acquaintances, and loved to choose his company.
3. Whang, however, with all his eagerness for riches, was poor. He had nothing but the profits of his mill to support him; but, though these were small, they were certain: while it stood and went, he was sure of eating; and his frugality was such, that he, every day, laid some money by; which he would, at intervals, count and contemplate with much satisfaction.