Brood not o'er the ills of life;
Give no cause for needless strife;
Tomb the past with all its sin;
Purify yourself within;
Rear your standard, be a MAN,
And do whatever good you can.
Some, perhaps, will misconstrue
All you say and all you do,
But when conscience is at rest
Happiness will fill the breast—
'Twill be a sweet red-letter day
When we all shall act that way.
In Prison.
BY HARRISON.
That which the world miscals a jail
A private closet is to me;
Whilst a good conscience is my bail,
And innocence my liberty: