Perhaps had I chosen some other profession
Than that of moulding the human mind,
I might have secured a greater possession
Of lucre and treasures and powers combined,
Than all I may now of these truly own;
But I have in my casket some jewels I treasure
Far more than all stocks and houses and lands,
In gold and silver their worth has no measure,
For none may compute warm hearts and true hands,
When the shadows of years are over us thrown.
There are two kinds of discontent—
Malignant, and progressive,—
The latter is the proper sort,
Of it, be quite possessive.
The former, born of parentage
Whose motive powers are evil,
Serves but one purpose here below—
To aid its father—Devil.
IMPORTANT MOMENTS.
There are times when the fate of nations
May hang on a moment's call;
When spheres in their mute rotations
May swing on a hinge so small,
That the breath of a spirit's pinion
Might unpoise a balanced world,
And lost to law's dominion
Through endless space be hurled.
There are times when the herdsman's calling
May vibrate thro' alpine ranch
Till the pendent drop, by its falling,
Sweeps down in an avalanche,
Till the mountain trembles and totters
'Neath the mighty force of snow,
And the lives and homes of the cotters
Are lost in the vale below.
There are times when the mind's inaction
Has robbed the soul of power,
When moments of deep reflection
Arrive at so late an hour
That they lose the force of their mission
In the laggard way they come,
And like withered buds of fruition,
Are lifeless, powerless, dumb.
There are words that have been spoken
That have echoed on thro' years;
Though the vessel has been broken
That voiced them to our ears,
Yet they come with increased ardor
As the years are passing by,
Since the soul stood on the border
Of vast eternity.
There are scenes that ever mirror
Their forms in thought divine,
That with lapse of time grow dearer
Till we hold them as some shrine,
Wherein are kept the treasures
Of Faith and Trust and Love—
A trio fraught with pleasures
Drawn from the realms above.