We speak of Glory, and Trust, and Men,
But that is all forgotten when
We send this softly feathered bird
With messages best left unheard.
Oh! What a mockery ’cross the sky
The dove is sent to act as spy.
THE SCHOOL OF LIFE
(To M)
Lives are classes—we are pupils with excellent teachers. Experience should tutor us, but we so often shirk school. School can be made happy and we delight in making a higher grade—but through not heeding Experience’s teaching we often are left back in the old class, and sometimes, sad to relate, are put several grades lower.
But, happily, there is always the opportunity of skipping many grades upward. It’s a poor rule that doesn’t work both ways.
The Mind is the Grade we work in. We can have majestic thoughts, living in a hermit’s hut, or we can think as a swine in a palace on a throne of gold—let us choose our station—kingly children, or swineherds. Eternity is the Empire.
THE WANTON
To love, save that which mockery was,
No heart, save that of stone.
A multitude forever hers,
Alas—not one—alone!