Living for others, living for self,
Good of the few or worldly pelf,
Giving to all with lavish hand
Of the humble gifts at our command;
Which is the best to save or share
Whether the day be dark or fair:—
To save or share the little we get,
Though storms prevail and foes beset?
Though kingdoms fall and wars increase,
The heart is filled with joy and peace,
Willing to strive with word and deed
To help some fainting soul succeed.
THE BOOK OF TIME.
The Book-of-Time, each page a year,
With every word a hope or fear,
Thereon impressed in lines of light
Would bid us read its truths aright,
The Book-of-Time a volume vast,
The royal record of a past
Wherein a century ’s a day,
Before eternity’s broad sway.
The Book-of-Time ’tis bound in gold,
This mammoth book no man can hold;
And angel fingers wield the pen
That writeth of the deeds of men.
The Book-of-Time transcribed shall lie
As open as the fair blue sky;
Many a loving heart shall find
How wise it was in being kind.